


Of Balconies And Of Scripts

by Skittlesun



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Gay Panic, Glasses Gays, Highschool AU, Human AU, Logan is a protective dad, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Roman likes to make fun of how rich Virgil is, Romeo and Juliet AU, Shakespeare but gay, Virgil is honestly just a mood, actually everyone here is a mood, actually no, and im the author so its canon, and rich, and weak and frail people should not fight, because I say so, because hes an emo, can i make fun of my own sexuality ironically, dont worry im gay, fight me, haha - Freeform, he spends most of his money on panic at the disco merch though, im gay and confused, im sorry i feel like im overusing the word gay, im weak and frail, logicality as parents, my son is rich, please dont fight me, sanders sides au, slowburn, sometimes i cant tell if its anxiety or gay panic and im the author, this is just a mess of gay panic and anxiety to be honest, this is to help ease the fifty pages of angst you probably just read, virgil has a crush, virgil is also gay and confused, virgil is also oblivious, virgil is an awkward gay, wait im confused, wait is that offensive, whats that? Stop the gay panic? MORE G A Y, y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-07-04 05:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15834564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittlesun/pseuds/Skittlesun
Summary: Virgil Knight’s never been very fond of projects that include other people. They were impractical, inefficient, and unenjoyable in general— why should his grades be put in the hands of his people skills?When Virgil’s put in a partner project worth half his grade with none other than Roman Prince, the most popular guy in school— and though Virgil would deny it, his crush since freshman year —he can’t decide whether or not this project was a blessing from above or an early punishment from the depths of where his nightmares came from.





	1. Virgil Can’t Think Straight

**Author's Note:**

> Ok ok ok so I was sitting down at three am, getting ready to sleep and then I get this idea ya know? Any rational person would write down the idea and go to sleep, but nO  
> I MUST WRITE  
> and that is the story of how I woke up but didn’t really wake up because exhaustion had me believing I’m just swaying around the world like a lifeless, moving doll.

Group projects were never Virgil's forte. 

As a young man who lived by the motto "head down, hoodie up," it would be smart to assume that Virgil didn't like the attention that came to having to work with strangers he'd see every day but never give more than a mere glance to. He couldn't quite decipher if it was the fact he worked better alone or the fact he just hated having to interact people, but either way, Virgil found the topic of working with other people and putting his grades in their hands not very... reassuring.

As his father, Logan, had phrased it, "There's a difference between independence and antisocial, and while I identify myself as an all-knowing nerd, I can't pinpoint where you lay in that difference."

And yet, while Logan worked considerably well with others if forced to do so, Virgil hated group projects. It was something he considered inconvenient and generally unenjoyable. So when Ms. Dare of the refined arts classroom announced that half of the semesters grade rested on top of a two-people group project with the stereotypical remake of 20th century  _Romeo and Juliet,_ Virgil was ready to pack his bags and live under the bridge as a failed performing arts student.

To avoid all of the "biased group choosing," Ms. Dare instructed the students to choose names out of the Cat and the Hat hat she owned. With Virgil's luck, he was certain he'd be paired up with none other than one of the weirdos he'd never be caught hanging out with, but when  _Roman - I Freakin' Had A Crush On You Since Freshman Year -Prince_ sauntered up to the hat™ and randomly picked out a crumpled piece of paper —  _which Virgil had TOUCHED by the way, they basically indirectly held hands —_ and read Virgil's name out loud, Virgil could not tell if his heart stopped beating or if his heart was beating at the fastest rate a human heart could beat without exploding.

After that choosing of partners from the heavens or hells - Virgil hadn't decided yet - class passed by in a confusingly overwhelming speed at that rate, and Virgil almost didn't hear the distant, annoying ring of the dismissal bell. Before anyone else could object, Virgil speed walked out of the classroom, making his way to the hallways and hastily taking his phone out from his jean pocket, dialing his father Logan's number.

Logan, the worry wart he was, picked up after the second ring, answering with a slightly concerned, "Hello?"

Virgil inhaled sharply. "Dad, you're a surgeon." He meant it as a question, but it came out as a statement, a bit rushed and straightforward.

Confused, Logan confirmed with a perplexed, "Yes?"

"And surgeons have a lot of money."

Concern took over confusion. "Where is this going?"

"Dad, I'm in a group project and I need you to bribe the school to just give me a test instead."

Virgil could swear he felt his father's amused smile through the phone as the conversation fell at a silence. Logan's voice returned, less concerned and confused but more amused. The amusement which basically just  _oozed_ from his phone speaker annoyed the hell out of the teen.

"Virgil, ask me anything else and I'll give it to you in a flash," Logan said warmly, chuckling under his breath as the background noise of what seemed to be a busy workplace served as a mess of static framing Logan's cool voice.  

Virgil, rushing across the hallway and shoving his way through the noisy, sweaty highschoolers in his way, pouted. "But  _dad!_ It's a group project, and half my grade for performing arts is hanging on it!"

"Then you better work hard or your father is going to kick your ass, son," Logan joked, half serious. Patton could be the strict parent when he had to....

A deep sigh found its way out of Virgil's lips. He groaned. "This is it," Virgil exclaimed dramatically, fighting his way to the front of the school where he began his twenty minute trek to his... considerably large house. "This is where my life falls apart. My hopes and dreams, shattered! My successful surgeon of a father and amazing chef of a dad will disown their son!"

Logan laughed, and while the steel-faced surgeon barely showed any vast amount of emotion to strangers, the times he laughed were contagious and shockingly sing-song. Virgil couldn't help but entertain the smile on his face. "Goodbye, Virgil," Logan sang in an enthusiastically happy voice.

Virgil smiled. "Bye, dad."

The teen passed the gates he'd never really taken a good look at from his past days of walking home, and was just about to plug in his earphones when a voice found its way to Virgil's ear, strangely commanding yet beautifully dramatic.

"Virgil!" The voice called, muffled by the sound of the hordes of students.

The teen addressed as Virgil turned to look at the one who had called his name only to find his breath hitching in a moment of shock and slight panic. In front of him, just a few yards away, stood Roman - I had a freakin' crush on you since freshman year - Prince with his perfectly slicked back hair and cheeky smile. 

From afar, Virgil could hear his own heart explode from the sight of the taller teen in front of him. Ever heard that saying "girls want him, boys want to be him?" Well, Virgil was a boy, and he wants nothing than to  _be with_ him, because honestly, have you  _seen_ the beauty which went by the name Roman Prince?!

The taller teen with the dyed red hair put a hand behind his neck in what seemed to be embarrasment as he walked closer to Virgil. At this point, Virgil really hoped Roman didn't hear the excruciating pounding of his now revived heart across his rib cage.

"Uhmm..." Virgil tried to think of something smart to say, but what came out was an almost accusatory, "What did you want?"

The intense hammering in his rib cage got louder as the shorter of the two internally slapped himself because,  _No, Virgil! What the hell are you doing, you want him to like you, not think you're some freak with anger issues!_

Thankfully, the president of the theater club didn't seem fazed by the harsh wording in which the other had seemingly accused him with. "Well, since we have a group project together, I just wanted to exchange numbers. Y'know... for the project. It’s much more convenient that way."

Virgil's internal monologue exploded in the flurry of screams and commands.

_SCREECH! FRIGGIN' SCREECH! YEET HIM YOUR PHONE, VIRGIL, YEET HIM YOUR PHONE—_

Virgil masked his choking on his spit as an awkward cough as he passed Roman his phone, trying to look as nonchalantly as he possibly could, although the inner working of his mind had stopped functioning the moment he passed the phone to Roman-Freakin'-Prince.

Roman gently passed his phone back and the brief moment of their fingers touching like in the movies shocked Virgil. He tried to restrain himself from clutching his chest like in those animes and just awkwardly balanced on the balls of his feet.

Roman gave Virgil a shy wave goodbye before disappearing back in the crowds of students. The boy in the oversized jacket stared at the spot Roman was for a minute or two before turning on his heels and continuing on his walk home, all the while clutching his chest with a pale hand and whispering, "Be still my beating heart."

Virgil tried to ignore the thoughts relapsing back to his gay desires, and instead inspected the newest notification which sent his phone vibrating on his back pocket.

Opening up the text from the number, Virgil caught himself in gay panic once more. 

_**3:21 PM** _

_**Roman Empire:** Looking forward to being your project partner for this semester._

Virgil took a minute to compose himself, silently thinking up ways to respond to the message. With shaky fingers, he found himself typing out a response.

**_3:22 PM_ **

_**Virge Of Freaking Out:** I can't determine for sure if share that positivity. Never liked group projects before._

_**Roman Empire:** You've never been lucky enough to be in a group with me, obviously._

Virgil snorted at that reply before typing out his own response.

**_3:23 PM_ **

_**Virge Of Freaking Out:** Lucky or unlucky? Who's to say?_

_**Roman Empire:** Excuse you, anyone who's ever come to contact with me and my wonderful group skills is automatically one of the luckiest people in the universe._

Virgil gave the phone screen a laugh. 

**_Virge Of Freaking Out:_ ** _Which universe are you living in?_

_**3:24 PM** _

_**Roman Empire:** The very same one you're in, thankfully._


	2. The Magic Of Fridays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rule of the universe is simple-- Fridays are automatically the best days ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K so I'm really tired and this is as much as I can muster from the hamster inside my head who runs on a wheel to move my imagination. The hamster is very tired so the creativity juice isn't being produced from the wheel as well.

The thing about waking up on a Friday morning is how energized you feel. No matter the hours - or maybe even minutes - you slept, you always feel as if you've woken up from a particularly good slumber. Thing is, this only works on Fridays. The energy doesn't magically come to greet you in the mornings in Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, or any other days of the week - only Fridays.

That's the rush about it. Virgil's Friday mornings meant freshly served pancakes from his famous chef dad Patton and semi-serious, semi-sarcastic conversations with his surgeon father Logan.

Virgil's Friday mornings meant taking a warm shower and getting ready in a way that resembles being reborn, and afterwards going down two floors of the mansion (which he only lived in because of the positions his fathers stood in in the career world) only to find Logan playing the piano while Patton watched from the couch.

Virgil's Friday mornings meant short classes and decreased chances of social interaction with anyone. Virgil's Friday mornings meant the best Friday mornings.

It was an unspoken rule of the universe: Fridays are automatically good days, just from being that day alone. 

So why was did shortened class schedule pick on Virgil's mind so much this particular Friday? That never happened before. Before, Virgil would find himself enjoying the short classes, darting out of the classrooms without a single word spoken, but today, he just wasn't feeling... Friday.

It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Virgil wouldn't be able to have as much time with Roman on the basics of their Romeo and Juliet 21st century remake, of course. Definitely nothing to do with the limited time he would spend with the princely figure.

Last period Performing Arts class wasn't something to be worried about, but if it wasn't, then why was Virgil glaring at the door knob of the building instead of entering? Shaking the thoughts off of his head, Virgil entered the room.

His gaze fell upon the burning ball of sunshine that went by the name Roman first. Then he internally screamed at himself to avert his eyes from his desires to fulfill his gay heart's dream and darted to a seat on the back of the class.

No one seemed to notice the warmed cheeks of his face, and he was the only one who felt as if his makeup could melt from his skin so Virgil deemed it to be a narrowly escaped gay predicament. 

Five minutes later and Ms. Dare took roll and began her lesson.

"As you all know, this semester ends in three weeks," she began, clapping her hands together cheerily. "But before you get a chance to mentally prepare yourselves for the next semester, you still have to survive this one.

"Yesterday, I assigned a partner project on Romeo and Juliet, in which you and your assigned partner will take one scene from the iconic play and perform it, but modernized."

It seemed like the class really didn't like the effort they'd have to put in, but the way Ms. Dare phrased it like an over excited puppy killed all hopes of any groans surfacing. 

"I understand that some people will have to take some time to perfect their projects," Ms. Dare sympathized, smiling at her class fondly, "so, seeing as we only actually have twenty minutes of class left, I'll allow the partners to meet for the rest of the class and plan out the basics of their projects."

Chairs screeched as they were moved around, desks rearranging to let partners be partners. Chitter and chatter passed through the room while everyone began to speak.

Virgil and Roman, still across the room from each other, shyly moved closer until they were face to face, an arm's length away. A silence hung in the air, but none of the two made a move to break it.

The uncomfortable silence continued, baffling Virgil. From the times he'd  ~~stalked~~  observed Roman around with others, Roman had usually been high and mighty and loud, but right now, in front of Virgil, Roman seemed like the opposite.

God, the silence was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second, slowly suffocating the two boys. Virgil wracked his brain for a way to start a conversation.

_Think, think, think! What can you do well?_

Virgil internally shrugged.  _Dad always said I argued well?_

Before he could inspect the best way to approach the awkward silence, he had already began running his mouth. 

Virgil smirked cockily at Roman. "Pretty quiet," he teased. "Are you always less awkward in texts as you are IRL, because if you are, my phone's in my back pocket."

 _VIRGIL YOU_ ABSOLUTE _SPOON, ARE YOU ASKING HIM TO HATE YOU?!_

Roman looked confused for a while, then confusion mixed into shock, and then finally affronted. The princely king of highschool made a noise in his throat, resembling a noise of what seemed to be offense.

"Excuse you, I am  _not_ awkward!" He denied, stamping his foot down. The small pout affirmed the joking manner.

A sigh of relief swept through Virgil's internal monologue. He kept the teasing facade up. "See, from the two minutes you spent staring at your shoes, I beg to differ."

Heat rose up to warm Roman's cheeks, but even after the flushing, Roman refused to admit. "Hmph," he muttered stubbornly. "I was just thinking about how best to approach the situation. You aren't exactly the social type I hang out with, Virgil."

Virgil shrugged indifferently, leaning on a desk to maintain his casual aesthetic. "See, that's the point," he said, waving a hand calmly. "If you weren't an awkward person, you wouldn't have to think about the best way to do something. It would already be in your mind."

Roman blinked, and Virgil could almost see the gears turning in his brain. The darkly clad one of the two was certain Roman Prince would retort with something funny and creative, but he practically choked when Roman let out a flirtatious, "Well maybe something about you makes me awkward."

Virgil gulped, cheeks warming to the point where he was sure his pale foundation would literally turn into melted icecream. He shoved the itty bitty butterflies away and tried for a sarcastic come back. "Is that you trying to low-key call me awkward?" He asked, putting up an unimpressed facade as he crossed his arms in amusement.

Roman faltered for a split second before regaining his usual soft and approachable expression. He shrugged suggestively.

There was a thick mood that hung in the air around them for a while before finally being broken by the high pitched sound of the dismissal bell. Virgil sighed. "So much for the project," he muttered.

Roman arched an eyebrow, a gesture that was so small but somehow still continued to make Virgil's heart thump just a little faster. "We could meet up somewhere after school, if that's fine," he suggested. 

Virgil almost choked.  _The first time he'd see Roman outside of school holy mcfuck. This is gay hell leading me into temptation and I am for it._

"That sounds... good," he agreed, trying to look his best to look cool and edgy all while overheating inside. "Got any suggestions for our meet up place?"

Roman shook his head. "Not my house, for sure. Dad's theater group is meeting today and I can't disrupt that."

Virgil arched an eyebrow. Roman waved the unsaid question away, answering with a, "Dad owns the theater, he sometimes brings a cast of an upcoming production to our house."

Virgil nodded. "Uhm, okay...." he drawled on, playing with the sleeves of his jacket. "Well, uh, my house is nearby... we could, uhm, yeah."

 _Real. Smooth._ the voice inside his head unhelpfully drawled, sarcasm basically dripping on the thoughts. 

To the younger boy's surprise, Roman beamed with a glow around his head. "That would be awesome!" Roman agreed, nodding. "So your place?"

Virgil flushed with colour. "Uh, yeah, I guess. I hope you don't mind walking...." 

"No, not at all. I'm a great walker." He demonstrated by walking in place, making Virgil snort. 

The two walked out of the class, backpacks slung over their shoulders as they made their way on the front of the school, chatting animatedly about things like musicals and theatrical productions they both enjoyed.

Halfway through a conversation about which musical song was the best, Virgil remembered. It was a Friday. And Fridays meant both his dads were home, and that meant he was leading Roman straight to a minefield of questions and a barrage of fatherly threatening jokes and puns.

Virgil gulped, and debated on leading Roman to a different direction towards the library, but before he could even turn on his heel, he was struck with the realization that he was now in standing in front of his mansion gate.

Someone from the inside must have seen Virgil through the cameras because no less than a minute later, the gates began to open, acquiring access to the front yard.

"Well heck," Virgil muttered. "Too late to go back now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to review or leave a kudos or a nice comment, it really helps me towards improvement and such ^_^
> 
> If you're interested, you can follow my main Tumblr @skittlesun where I reblog memes and Sanders sides


	3. A Modern Day Retelling Turned Homosexual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short but it was very fun to write

Virgil didn't think much about how the gates to his mansion usually opened in the past. It was an occurrence that happened daily, whether it was him manually typing in the password, one of the guards and house maintenance opening it through the controls, or one of his fathers opening it through the controls in the house.

Today, however, nothing since walking to his house with Roman was a daily occurrence, because in a span of five minutes, he'd found himself taking Roman home, and the gates had opened with Roman next to him.

Virgil tried to ignore the wide-eyed look Roman had as he walked inside the large yard to the entrance of his home, instead focusing on shoving the thought of Roman's inner monologue about his home aside.

Virgil cringed a little when the front door opened with his father Patton smiling curiously at Roman and a glance to Virgil. Patton beamed widely, and Roman who was previously fidgeting with his fingers couldn't help but smile, too.

"Virgil, who's the new friend?" Patton asked, giddily smiling as he fully opened the door, eyes tracking Roman's face, steadily showing more and more signs of discomfort to his surroundings.

Virgil answered with an awkward "Performing arts partner" and grabbed Roman's hand, sidestepping the pleasantly surprised man to drag Roman inside the house.

The shorter and darker of the two teens pulled the more confident man inside the mansion, not missing the star eyes which had appeared in the latter's face, staring at the largeness of a single room alone. The darker haired boy continued to pull Roman room through room, not bothering to pause.

A voice interrupted Virgil's escape to his room. 

"Virgil?" Logan appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, and his dark blue eyes landed on the teens entwined hands. His expression hardened protectively as Virgil realized the hands and quickly let go. 

His father was dressed in a casual dark blue shirt and grey sweatpants, his eyes expressing confusion behind his square rimmed glasses. Logan's usually carefully gelled back hair was hastily gelled back in a much more Friday fashion.

Logan stepped closer, looking both casual and intimidating as he kept his icy eyes on the unfamiliar face of Roman Prince. "I wasn't aware of we were having visitors," he said, eyes flicking to Virgil's face while maintaining the  _professional voice_ tone he only ever used when dealing with other surgeons or when talking to lawyers.

Virgil was suddenly very aware of how his face flushed with color. Alarms sounded in his mind.  _Oh god, oh god, oh god,_ Virgil thought, thoughts plowing through his mind in an increasingly confusing state.  _He's gonna go protective dad on my crush. This is so embarrasing, oh god._

"U-Uh, yeah, dad...." he stammered. "He's my, um, project partner from the, err, project I told you about, uh, yesterday."

His fathers face betrayed no emotion as he studied the face of his son. Virgil stayed glued on the spot as he noticed  Roman awkwardly avoiding butting into the conversatoon between father and son.

To his horror, Logan sighed, eyes flashing to Roman and sticking his hand out for a handshake. "Logan Knight, Virgil's father," he introduced himself, staring Roman down despite only being a couple inches taller than the senior highschooler.

Virgil noticed the boy beside him hesitate before taking Logan's hand in a firm shake. "Roman Prince." He seemed to think before adding, "Virgil's theater partner."

His terror was magnified when Logan glared at the boy before letting his hand down in a silent, protective warning. Roman looked like he was trying hard to look unafraid in the wolf's den, but an indignant squeak made its way up Roman's throat.

The sound of footsteps cut through the three like a knife cutting through a butter made entirely of awkwardness and silence. Patton's freckled face appeared at the opposite doorway, smiling widely at the three males who stood in the middle of the room, standing just below the stairs. His face showed the expression of a man threatening to spit out a pun.

Knowing exactly what was about to happen, Virgil took hold of Roman's hand again and dashed to the second floor, stopped to catch his breath, and ran to the third floor.

Virgil let Roman's hand fall from his as he took a few deep breaths and smiled nervously at Roman. "So, uh, yeah," he started. "Welcome to my house, you just met my dads."

Roman stared at him for a long time before blinking. Once. Twice. "You own a  _mansion_?!" were the first words to come out of Roman's mouth for the two minutes they stood, just staring at each other.

Virgil shrugged nonchalantly, walking down a long, wide hallway like he'd done so many times before. "Nope," he answered, popping the  _p._ "My dads own the mansion."

Roman furrowed his eyebrows in a sort of serious confusion, following the his shorter peer along the hallway to a large room which seemed to serve as a bare room, decorated by nothing more than a large, darkly covered bed and some band posters over a simple desk. "This is your room?"

The boy in front of him nodded. "This. The rest of the floor. Same thing."

Roman's mouth fell open, and Virgil was suddenly made aware of how spoiled he sounded, talking so casually about how he was in a family of rich people and had the entire floor of a mansion all to himself. No normal kids his age had that. The air around the two threatened to turn sour with an awkward sense of knowing who was more financially well-off.

In an attempt to gain some solid ground to be making a conversation around, Virgil bit his lip. "So, Romeo and Juliet?" He reminded, awkwardly forming the reminder as a suggestion/question. 

Roman nodded, mouth dry as he watched Virgil balance on the balls of his feet before exiting the bedroom and making his way back to a hallway before eventually stopping at some sort of mini-workspace, bookshelves lining a far wall and an office desk to the right, overlooking a wall of glass which looked out to the garden.

Roman trailed behind Virgil as Virgil closed the blinds on the window wall and turned on a laptop on the desk. Roman watched as the quiet boy clicked on a word document and titled it  _Romeo and Juliet, a modern day retelling._

"Got any ideas?"

* * *

Roman had  _a lot_ of ideas, as proved by the rambling on and on about what scenes they could use and how they could change it up, as well as the characters needed to portray such characters in said scene.

The boy spoke in such passion about each scene, making Virgil hooked on his words, although none of the ideas seemed to stick, even if they were great ideas. Neither Virgil nor Roman could figure out what was missing.

"We could do that one scene with Tybalt and--" Roman's suggestion was cut off with Virgil's raised hand.

"I'm not playing Tybalt, he's an asshole."

"...agreed."

The two shared a tired look, Roman sitting on the desk with legs spread and Virgil sitting on the chair, legs criss-crossed. "How about that one scene where Romeo is comforted through lovesickness by his best friend?"

Virgil pondered over the idea for a while. "Too boring. The modern retelling would just be two dudes going 'Hah, wow, love sucks' and the other going 'No, mate.'"

Roman nodded and groaned. Virgil gave him an amused stare as he jokingly suggested, "I don't suppose you make a good Juliet now, don't you, Princey?"

A dangerously mischievous silence bounced around the room. "No, but you certainly can pull it off," Roman said, eyes focusing on Virgil, a jokers glint shining in the caramel brown pupils.

Virgil's eyes widened.

"No!" He disagreed. "No, no, no, no, no. No way, I'm not going to get in a dress! No way! I'm not acting as a girl--"

"Who says you have to?" Roman interrupted. "Modern day retelling, remember? It's 20gayteen, Virge."

Virgil paled, his chest pounding in a loud, mechanical bumping in his heart as Roman gave him that look which meant the plan was set in stone.

Roman grabbed the laptop and edited the word document.

~~~~~~~~_Romeo and_ _~~Juliet~~  Julius, a modern day retelling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to review and maybe leave a kudos if you liked the story, and if you want, don't forget to follow my Tumblr @skittlesun


	4. Let's Talk about Balconies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I loved writing this, but I think it's probably too fast paced?

The iconic balcony scene from the play "Romeo and Juliet" was a hazy memory humans have somehow drilled into their minds. According to every human ever, the balcony scene was a scene where Romeo and Juliet express their love for each other using poetic words.

That is wrong.

In fact, the balcony scene itself isn't an actual scene. In the original play script, there was no balcony. Romeo and Juleit expressed their love for each other using poetry through a window. There was no mention of a balcony, but somehow, humans have been fooled so deep into this "balcony scene" to go as far as to name a type of balcony "Juliet."

It was a false memory, a lie carved into a human's mind.

That's what Virgil felt. When Roman left his home when the sun had begun to set, he pondered the possibility of Roman not even being in his home, the possibility of that memory of what had occurred two days ago as a false memory, a balcony scene, but after asking for confirmation on whether or not Roman had just entered his home, Logan answered with a cold, "Yes, your _theater partner_ did come to the house."

So that sealed it.

Two days ago, Virgil had successfully hung out with Roman until the sun had begun to set on the pristine white mansion, and those hours were both the most stressful yet amazing moments of his entire existence, too good to be true. 

And so, when Virgil was dropped off to school by his father Logan, he tightly grabbed onto his backpack and made his way in campus, eyes looking out for Roman Prince, which wasn't very hard to spot, considering the crowd of students around him.

This was the daily schedule. Go to campus, sit on a bench, and admire Roman from afar while angrily glaring at the people he was talking to, jealous that they weren't him. It was a daily occurrence, yet after Friday, the thought of staring from afar was different. Now, he knew Roman wasn't just a pretty face, he was also a sarcastic little whiny bitch-- " _Yes,_ Virgil, normal teens  _totally_ have custom-made rugs with Brendon Urie's face on it worth  _a thousand fricken' bucks."_

While Friday may not have been a dream, today was most definitely not Friday. Today was a regular day where Roman would obliviously continue talk to his friends, completely unaware of how Virgil longed to be one of those friends.

Today, Roman would sit across the grass, surround by his close theater and football friends and Virgil would pine restlessly from across the field and hOLY MOTHERFRICKEN SHIT ROMAN'S RUNNING YOUR WAY-

Insert a mix of internal panic, gay panic, and high pitched screaming inside the emo teen's mind as he watched Roman jog up to him. Virgil played with the idea of running away, but even before he could turn the other way, Roman was  _right in front of him with his pretty face and cute butt._

Virgil coughed awkwardly. "Uhm, yEs hi." He cringed at the voice crack, wishing he could rip out his own vocal chords to scold them about when and where he could have a voice crack.

Roman laughed, raising a hand to comb his hazelnut hair with. Virgil was disgusted by how beautiful the habit was. "What's with the sudden awkward greeting, Yikes in the Yard?"

Virgil blinked. "You mean Panic at the disco?"

Roman waved that away with a flick of his wrist. "Same thing," he dismissed, eyes rolling. "Now, what are you doing alone in this bench at this marvelous morning!"

A deadpan expression. "Marvelously mourning," Virgil answered, a deadpanned look in his face, yet a smug look in his eyes suggested he was proud of the clever wordplay.

"Mourning?" The boy in the red letterman jacket repeated. "Mourning what?"

"The loss of my peace because a certain theater geek had to run over here to question me."

Roman smirked in response. "Man, that must suck."

Virgil couldn't help but notice how straight that sounded. The word "man" being used by another man to address someone was just such a heterosexual man thing to do. "Yes, as a matter of fact, it does."

Roman nonchalantly sat on the bench next to Virgil, shrugging. "Does this certain theater geek bother you a lot?"

Virgil pretended to be interested in his nails as he swiftly answered, "Increasingly this past week, actually. I think you're familiar with him. He's very annoying, hard to miss."

Roman rolled his eyes as a comfortable silence blanketed the boys, only being broken moments later when Roman sighed, "Well, my dear Disenchanted--"

"Was that an MCR reference, because I hate you."

"-- my friends await my return, and I'd hate to disappoint."

Dear Disenchanted's face fell in frown he tried to hide with his hand, eyes sadly watching Roman stand from the bench and dust himself off. Virgil searched his pocket for his ear buds, only to raise his head to find Roman still curiously looking at him, head tilted like a curious puppy and an amused smile plastered at his face.

"What?" Virgil asked nervously, hands fiddling with the tangled wires. 

Roman sighed, rolling his eyes as if Virgil missed something thay should have been obvious. "When I said my friends were waiting," Roman started, offering a hand to Virgil who eyed it carefully, "I meant for you to join me back."

 _This is way too good to be true._ "...Why?" He stared at the hand like it was poisoned and accepting it would lead to his demise. 

The standing one of the two laughed. "Well, I wouldn't want to have that annoying theater geek have to annoy you again." That goofy grin was plastered in his disgustingly perfect face again, making Virgil flush the tiniest tint of pink. "And besides, I enjoy your company, dearest Juliet."

The offered hand stayed outstretched as the cautious one it was outstretched to examined it nervously. With a deep intake of breath, he grabbed the hand, blushing furiously behind his other arm as Roman grinned like a moron and dragged him to his crowd of friends.

It made Virgil's heart flutter when Roman dragged him to the spotlight, giving him a reassuring smile before turning back to the crowd.

"Meet Juliet," Roman said, smiling wildly, Virgil's hand still in his own. At that moment, Virgil hoped Roman couldn't feel his speeding pulse as his heart beat faster and faster.

Once the warmth of his long-time crush left his hand, Juliet suddenly became aware of the dozens of eyes staring at him, some with warm fondness, some with welcoming sparks, and others with mixed feelings of tentative confusion and closed off cold.

His eyes drifting to his feet, Virgil muttered a correction: "Julius, actually. Or, you know, Virgil."

He felt the eyes judge him, either deeming him worthy to join the group or not, but at that moment, the only eyes that mattered were Roman's.

And yeah, maybe this was another balcony scene, and maybe this didn't actually happen, but balcony scenes, no matter if they really existed, were quite enjoyable to watch and experience.


	5. Modernizing The Shakespearean Century Play

Up until the 1600s, women weren't allowed to play roles in the Elizabethan theaters, and because of this, up until the 1600s, Romeo and Juliet's cast was played by males, the role of Juliet most definitely played by young boys with feminine voices and body figures.

In a way, this was a source of comfort for Virgil. To know that him playing the role of Juliet wouldn't be so alien because the role of Juliet was originally played by males like him.

But there was a difference.

Sure, males played Juliet, but Juliet was most definitely not  _Julius._ Juliet was a straight woman played by straight men. Julius, however, was a modern, gay man played by a modern, gay teen. Not only that, but Julius's Romeo is a gay man played by a (probably??) straight teen that said gay boy was infatuated with.

Which made this a lot more difficult than it should have been.

Roman brought his script down on the desk next to Virgil's, the book marked by several sticky notes in different pages, covered with summaries of the scene.

"Okay!" Roman exclaimed, taking a seat. "I've marked my book with sticky notes on every interaction Romeo and Juliet had with each other, and from these scenes, we can choose what scene to modernize and act." He paused. "That sounded a lot dorkier out loud."

"You are a dork."

"Shush, Julius is supposed to be nice."

Virgil groaned, dramatically draping himself over the desks to express his distaste. "Why do I have to be Juliet?" He asked, voice whiny. "We could literally be acting as anyone else. I'll gladly be Tybalt in that scene where Romeo kills him. I just don't want to be Juliet!"

"You're not Juliet," Roman reminded, booping Virgil's nose with his index finger. "You're  _Julius._ Get it right."

Julius wrinkled his nose. "Touch my nose again and perish."

Roman rolled his eyes. "Come on, we still have to pick out the scene. Cooperate with me, Virgil."

"Friend, Please--"

"God, I hate that I understood that reference."

"-- they only have, like, four scenes together, and it's obvious which one we're going to choose."

The jock raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Really? Speak, peasant."

Virgil ignored that, opting to rest his head on the desk, maintaining eye contact with his crush and theater partner. 

"Well, like I said, they only have four scenes together. Them meeting has more actors than just R and J, the death scene doesn't have Juliet do much than just sleep until Romeo dies which would be unfair for you to do most of the work, and so the balcony scene is the obvious winner."

A confused look on his partner's face, his hand showing three fingers raised. "Wait, that's only three scenes. You said there were four."

Virgil raised his head. "The marriage scene."

The other wiggled his eyebrows jokingly. "What, you don't wanna marry me?" He asked.

For what seemed to be the hundredth time this hour, Virgil rolled his eyes. "The marriage scene is easy to perform, though I'm not quite... sold on what happens after."

An excited gasp. "Tell me! What happens after!"

Virgil held Roman's eye contact, contemplating on whether or not he should tell Roman this specific detail. "They fuck."

The result was insane. The usually composed and somewhat dramatic football player choked on nothing, sputtering as his head flared bright red. "Wh-what! They do  _not._ " 

Virgil laughed. "Oh my god, you didn't know?" He teased, laughter full of childlike joy. "What did you think 'highway to Juliets bed' meant?"

"I-I don't know!" Roman stuttered, bright red tint still on his face as he pouted. "The script didn't mention them doing it! They could be riding cars for all I know!"

"It's meant to be taken poetically, you doofus," Virgil reminded, smirking lightly. "You just have to read carefully. Sooo--" he bat his eyelashes, teasingly leaning towards Roman "-- you wanna do the marriage scene, Mr. Prince?"

Roman pushed him away, flushing beet red. "Shut up, we're doing the balcony scene."

Virgil cackled before taking his laptop out of his backpack, typing in his password -- which definitely was _not_ KnightxPrince -- and opening the document. "Read me the script and modernize it the best you can. Only do Romeo's dialogue."

" 'He jests at scars that never felt a wound,' " Roman quoted. "That would turn to, _'He jokes at scars easily even though he's never been cut.'_ "

Virgil typed that line of dialogue in before pausing to look at the script. " _Julius appears in the balcony above Romeo._ Continue with the moon hate."

" ' _But wait! What is that light in the balcony over there? It is the east, and Julius is the sun. Rise, beautiful sun, and kill the envious moon. The moon is already sick with grief because you, his maid, are far more fair than he._

" ' _Don't be his maid because he is envious. Virginity makes him look sick and green; only fools hold on to their virginity_ \--"

Virgil muttered, "Wow. Rude."

"-- _Let it go. Oh, there is my sir, oh there is my love. Oh, I wish he knew how much I loved him. He's talking, but he's not saying anything. So? His eyes are speaking. I will answer them, but he is not speaking to me._

" ' _Two of the brightest stars in the heavens have gone off to do business and they've asked his eyes to twinkle in their place until they return. But what if his eyes were the sky and the stars were in his head?_

" ' _The brightness of his cheeks would outshine the stars as the sun outshines a lamp. If his eyes shone in the night sky, they would shine so bright thay birds would sing, believing his eyes were the day. Look how he rests his hand on his cheek-- oh how I wish I were the glove he wears_."

Virgil typed out the last sentences of Roman's translation, reading it over. "Hot," he muttered, taking the script again to find Juliet's dialogue. He snorted. "After Romeo's long paragraph, Juliet only says ' _Oh my_.' "

Roman grinned in response. "Romeo, to himself: ' _She speaks. Oh, speak again, bright angel. You are as glorious as an angel tonight. You shine above me like a winged messenger from heaven who makes mortals look up at the sky to stare at you in the clouds._ ' "

Virgil skimmed the page for Juliet's dialogue and translating it to modern style. "Julius, not knowing Romeo can hear him: ' _Oh, Romeo; Oh, Romeo, why must you have to be Romeo? Forget your father and change your name, or just say you love me and I'll stop being a Capulet._ "

" ' _Should I listen more, or shall I speak now_?' "

" ' _Your name is my enemy-- if you stop being a Montague, you'll still be yourself. What's a Montague? It isn't any part of a man! Oh, be some other name! What's a name? The thing we call a rose would smell just as sweet if it was called by any other name. Romeo would be just as perfect if he wasn't called Romeo. Romeo, lose your name. Lose your name and take me instead.'_ " Virgil whistled. "Damn, Jules."

Roman chuckled, shoving Virgil playfully. "Shut up! It was a cute declaration of love." Virgil snorted in response. "Romeo, to Julius: ' _I trust your words. Call me your love and I will take on a new name. Call me your love, and I will never be Romeo again.'_ "

" ' _Who are you? Why do you hide in the night to listen to my private thoughts_?' " Virgil scoffed. "Listen, Jules, I love you, but honestly, write in a diary if you don't want your thoughts heard."

He watched Roman shrug. "There's something comforting about ranting to an inanimate object," he reasoned. 

Virgil paused. "Okay!" He exclaimed, ending that conversation. "That's that on that! Continue, Romeo."

Roman laughed. "Whatever, Julius. Don't tell me you've never ranted to your Brendon Urie rugs before."

Virgil smiled. Then he froze. Roman had just called him Julius as a response to his calling Roman Romeo. _Did that mean anything?_ No, it was just a joking quip. But  _still._ It made Virgil's heart do that flippy thing. 

Shoving those thoughts out of his mind, Virgil responded with, "You leave my Brendon Urie rugs out of this--" he paused for a moment "-- Romeo."

Roman snorted, blissfully unaware of how hot and sweaty Virgil felt at that moment. "Hey, not judging. I have a couple posters with Lin Manuel Miranda's face on them, too, Julius." He winked at Virgil as if they'd shared a secret.

 _Oh my stars,_ Virgil's inner monologue said as his last two gay braincells fought for dominance. In a distance, he could hear panic alarms going off in his head. Not only had Roman called him Julius, but the dipshit also motherfricken' _winked_. Being that attractive was a crime god dammit.

After a long pause between the two, Roman continued with the script. " ' _I don’t know how to tell you who I am by telling you a name. I hate my name, dear saint, because my name is your enemy. If I had it written down, I would tear up the paper._ ' "

" _'I haven’t heard you say a hundred words yet, but I recognize the sound of your voice. Aren’t you Romeo? And aren’t you a Montague?'_ "

" _'I am neither of those things if you dislike them.'_ "

Virgil made a face. "Bitch. That's not how this works? You can't just not be something if someone doesn't like it! Fricken' carrots can't just stop being carrots if I don't like it."

"There's a difference," Roman hummed. "Carrots won't change for you because carrots don't love you. Romeo loved Juliet, so he would change for her."

"They met like two hours ago."

"Juliet's been waiting for Romeo her whole life."

"They barely knew the other existed until two hours ago."

"Juliet's been waiting even before she knew what she was waiting for."

Virgil paused. His nose scrunched up. "That makes absolutely no sense."

"And neither does having thousand dollar rugs of Brendon Urie's face, but hey." 

"You're attacking me! This is _illegal_! This is _abuse_! This is _bullying_! This is _homophobia_!" Virgil slapped a hand over his mouth. He felt his last two gay braincells freeze.

 _Did you just--_ a braincell started before abruptly getting cut off by the other brain cell.

 _He just outed us,_ the braincell confirmed.

There was that brief moment of the two braincells staring disapprovingly at Virgil before the alarms sounded again and inner panic took him over. Virgil vaguely recalled fire inside his brain before Roman's robust laughing swept over the madness in his head. The teen seemed unfazed by the sudden information, instead smiling at Virgil in a similar way Logan smiled at a crofters jar, and maybe Patton too.

Virgil heated up. He lightly slapped Roman's shoulder. "Shut your laughing. Continue with our lines."

"Well okay, then, my demanding fine fella." Roman purred the last part out. _Was... was he flirting_? Nooooooo-- _maybe_? No! Virgil, stop it! Not every nice guy wants to fuck you. 

" ' _Tell me, how did you get in here? And why did you come? The orchard walls are high, and it’s hard to climb over them. If any of my relatives find you here they’ll kill you because of who you are.'_ "

How ironic, Virgil thought. His father Logan would probably be just as protective over him as the family Juliet described. Maybe not as far to kill anyone, but just as close.

" ' _I flew over these walls with the light wings of love. Stone walls can’t keep love out. Whatever a man in love can possibly do, his love will make him try to do it. Therefore your relatives are no obstacle_.' " Roman gestured dramatically, sending Virgil a ten/ten would love again smile.

Virgil ignored the smile. " ' _If they see you, they’ll murder you_.' Whoaa-kay. What the heck. When we modernize that part of the script, we're not resorting to murder."

Roman chuckled. " ' _Alas, one angry look from you would be worse than twenty of your relatives with swords. Just look at me kindly, and I’m invincible against their hatred_.' Let's not use swords as a weapon, either."

Virgil snickered. " ' _I’d give anything to keep them from seeing you here.'_ "

" ' _The darkness will hide me from them. And if you don’t love me, let them find me here. I’d rather they killed me than have to live without your love_.' He's becoming desperate, holy shit."

"The play literally starts with him crying about Juliet's cousin rejecting him, when was he not desperate?" Roman rolled his eyes. " ' _Who told you how to get here below my bedroom?'_ "

" ' _Love showed me the way—the same thing that made me look for you in the first place. Love told me what to do, and I let love borrow my eyes. I’m not a sailor, but if you were across the farthest sea, I would risk everything to gain you_.' "

"They're sure throwing L words around carelessly," he grumbled. "Hm. Next part's long, let's make it shorter when we're modernizing it."

Roman nodded, agreeing, as Virgil read, modernized, and typed.

" ' _You can’t see my face because it’s dark out. Otherwise, you’d see me blushing about the things you’ve heard me say tonight. I would be happy to keep up good manners and deny the things I said. But forget about good manners. Do you love me? I know you’ll say_ yes _, and I’ll believe you. But if you swear you love me, you might turn out to be lying._

" ' _They say Jove laughs when lovers lie to each other. Oh Romeo, if you really love me, say it truly. Or if you think it’s too easy and quick to win my heart, I’ll frown and play hard-to-get, as long as that will make you try to win me, but otherwise I wouldn’t act that way for anything._

" ' _In truth, handsome Montague, I like you too much, so you may think my behavior is loose. But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove myself more faithful than boys who act coy and play hard-to-get. I should have been more standoffish, I confess, but you overheard me talking about the love in my heart when I didn’t know you were there. So excuse me, and do not assume that because you made me love you so easily my love isn’t serious_.' " Virgil inhaled. "God, this was a long paragraph."

Roman nodded. "You need a water there, Virge? You seem winded."

"That was the most exercise my mouth has ever had," he joked, laughing.

Virgil saw Roman's gaze soften and land at his lips. He gulped, tearing his face away from the theater nerd awkwardly. "So, uh, continue with Romeo's dialogue."

An awkward pause before Roman spoke. " ' _Sire, I swear by the sacred moon above, the moon that paints the tops of fruit trees with silver_ —' "

" ' _Don’t swear by the moon. The moon is always changing. Every month its position in the sky shifts. I don’t want you to turn out to be that inconsistent too_.' God, what is it with these people and all the moon hate."

"Everyone who has ever stared at the moon has died. Isn't that weird. ' _What should I swear by_?' "

"That's fucking stupid, Princey. ' _Don’t swear at all. But if you have to swear, swear by your wonderful self, which is the god I worship like an idol, and then I’ll believe you_.' "

"Oh, we're on nickname basis now, huh? ' _If my heart’s dear love—_ ' "

"Youve literally been calling me _Julius._ ' _Well, don’t swear. Although you bring me joy, I can’t take joy in this exchange of promises tonight. It’s too crazy. We haven’t done enough thinking. It’s too sudden. It’s too much like lightning, which flashes and then disappears before you can say, It's lightning. My sweet, good night. Our love, which right now is like a flower bud in the summer air, may turn out to be a beautiful flower by the next time we meet. I hope you enjoy the same sweet peace and rest I feel in my heart_.' "

"That's fair. ' _Oh, are you going to leave me so unsatisfied_?' "

"Yes, yes it is fair. ' _What satisfaction could you possibly have tonight?'_ "

Roman smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, Jules, I think you know."

Virgil reddened. He shoved Roman. "You know what, shut your fuck, you dirty minded freak."

Roman laughed. " ' _I would be satisfied if we made each other true promises of love.'_ " Another eyebrow wiggle which Virgil decided to ignore with an eyeroll, though the other teen persisted with the blatant suggestive expressions.

Immature brat _._  " ' _I pledged my love to you before you asked me to. Yet I wish I could take that promise back, so I had it to give again_.' " 

" ' _You would take it back? Why would you do that, my love_?' "

Virgil faked a gag at the term of endearment. " ' _Only to be generous and give it to you once more. But I’m wishing for something I already have. My generosity to you is as limitless as the sea, and my love is as deep. The more love I give you, the more I have. Both loves are infinite_.' "

"Do we cut the scene there?"

"I'm not about to ask someone to play the nurse."

Roman nodded. In convenient timing, the bell rang. "Hey, so...."

Virgil shrugged, face indifferent. "Class is over, you don't have to wait up." Virgil's heart panged at the end of that sentence, but he knew it would be cruel to keep the handsome man to himself using the project as an excuse to keep the guy hanging out with him.

One of Roman's friends -- Joan, Virgil recalled -- tapped Roman's shoulder. "We're going to Krispy Kreme, c'mon."

Trying not to intrude on a conversation between friends he was not invited in, Virgil avoided eye-contact with the two friends and tried to pack his bags as fast as he can to be able to leave the emptying class.

Virgil continued to pack his laptop in his bag, although the books inside the bag made it hard to place the laptop in and zip the bag up. The poor Juliet began to panic, trying his hardest to just shove the laptop in. Roman's friend's voice cut through the panic.

"Oh, uh, Virian, right?" 

Virgil froze like a deer in headlights. He made eye contact with the intimidating friend of Roman's, gulping around a nervous lump in his throat.

"Virgil, uhm, actually." Sure, the fact that Joan had forgotten his name kinda hurt, and sure, he had to bite back calling Joan  _John_ just to be petty, but at least Joan actually acknowledged him being there.

"Right, sorry," Joan apologized. "Let me make it up to you, I'll buy you a donut!"

"W-What--" Virgil stammered, nervously glancing at Roman. "Uh, no it's okay, my name's... uh, forgettable."

Joan flashed him a smile of innocence. "No, no, I insist! My friends and I are headed to Krispy Kreme afterschool anyway, you should come with. The Krispy Kreme in front of Roman's dad's theater has the best powdered donuts, right, Roman?"

"Yeah," Roman said, smiling. "You should come."

 _If you don't agree, they'll think you're stuck-up and don't want their company,_ The voice in his head pressured.  _You have to agree._

"Uh, yeah, okay..." Virgil agreed, cringing at the words. "Let me just, err, call my dad."

Joan gave him a thumbs up. "We'll be at the gates."

Virgil nodded as the two walked off, leaving him in the classroom alone. He took out his phone and dialed Patton's number.

The sweetest voice answered with an overexcited, "Hey, Virge!"

"Hey, dad. I'll probably be home late."

Patton's voice came off worried and concerned as he replied with, "What? Why?"

"Nothing bad," Virgil assured, continuing to pack his bag. "I just got invited to something with some friends."

"Ooh!" Patton's smile could be  _heard._ "Are you going with that centurion boy!"

"What?"

"Roman. You know, your father taught me that word! Roman centurions, they're these soldier commanders from Roman times. Thought it was cool."

"Yeah," Virgil chuckled. "It was great, pa. Yeah, it's with Roman and his friends."

"Well, that's great! You can call up a chauffeur to pick you up later, if it's far. Make sure to be safe, son!"

"Bye, dad."

"Love ya!"

"I know, dad."

With that, he hung up the call, sighing as he zipped his bag up, pocketed his phone, and began to walk out the class, then the building, then the school, meeting the horde of friends Roman had at the gates as promised.

Julius managed a shaky smile, standing next to Roman with other members of the group smiled at him with warm eyes. With some people belting out showtunes, the group began to walk to their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work, but it was all I could come up with after a week of traveling around. My mind's mush right now, but I do have great dreams about future chapters :D
> 
> Anyhowser, I had help with the whole modernizing quotes thing by this website called Sparknotes because I can't possibly translate those dialogues alone. 
> 
> Well, yeah!
> 
> Please don't forget to review, I'm always a slut for constructive criticism and compliments!
> 
> If any of you are interested, my Tumblr is @skittlesun
> 
> See ya on the next chapter


	6. This Is What Shakespeare Died For, God Dammit

William Shakespeare, as credited by the English Oxford dictionary, was a man of great vocabulary, estimations of his vocabulary range ranging from 17,000 words to 29,000 words as well as being praised for introducing an estimate of almost 3,000 words to the English language.

He was well educated, and no less is expected by a man who'd have written at least 37 plays and 154 sonnets as well as a great number of poems. Shakespeare's works always included such flowery language, tender and well spoken, sounding well in people's ears and looking beautiful when read.

Now recalling those thousands of words Shakespeare created and Shakespeare had used, Virgil couldn't feel a bit ignorant, unable to describe his situation in any other word as  _asdfghjklqwertyuiopzxcvbnm,_ a word which wasn't even a word.

Our young protagonist sat in a booth inside the Krispy Kreme across the street from a theater. The four boxes of donuts Roman's friend, Terrence, had bought the group sat in the middle of the table on their crowded booth, half empty, as the members of the group -- most being theater majors and football jocks -- chatted about some topic Virgil couldn't get himself to focus on.

The young edgechild silently prayed for something to distract him from the impending thought that he was going to do something wrong. Luckily, Shakespeare's dead ghost seemed to listen as the phone in his pocket silently vibrated.

Eager to find a way out of the conversation the group around him was having, Virgil dug the phone out of his pocket and opened the notification.

_**3:48 PM** _

_**Lo On Fuel:** "An outing with some friends." How peculiar, given how introverted you are and your lack of interest in doing many activities._

Virgil gulped. Dear lord, his father was informed. Virgil debated ignoring the message until he was back home--

_**3:49 PM** _

_**Lo On Fuel:** Don't even think about leaving me on read, Virgil. I see you've opened the message. _

_**Lo On Fuel:** And I've also been informed that this outing with friends happens to include your theater partner, Roman Prince._

_**Lo On Fuel:** How strange._

Virgil sighed before tapping a response, blocking out the noise of the other teens around him to focus on his phone screen.

**_3:51 PM_ **

**_Virge Of Freaking Out:_ ** _Yeah.... I suddenly became extroverted. Surprise?_

**_3:52 PM_ **

**_Lo On Fuel:_ ** _I can physically feel the uncertainty of that statement just by reading it._

_**Lo On Fuel:**  Angelcake, I don't care much about what you do in your spare time unless it's going to harm you, but please, Virgil, if this Roman is going to be someone who you'll be interacting with normally, let me know. Don't make it a surprise for me to find out and deem either pleasant or unpleasant._

Virgil scrunched his nose up at the old nickname, although the rest of the text made him feel all warm inside. Logan was _such_ a dad. 

**_3:55 PM_ **

**_Virge Of Freaking Out:_ ** _I know. Thanks, dad. And... I guess? We're friends now? I don't really know. He's nice and we hung out today, I guess._

What were they? They weren't strangers to each other, but they also only have actually interacted physically for only two days and texted through the weekend. Other than Virgil's record crush on him for three years now, they could only be described as... close acquantances? That sent an unpleasant ripple down Virgil's spine.

**_3:56_ **

**_Lo On Fuel:_ ** _Sounds to me like you want to be more than "friends, I guess."_

Virgil created a sound with a mixture of a groan and a chuckle. 

_**Virge Of Freaking Out:** Oh my god, dad, I am NOT talking about boys with you._

_**Lo On Fuel:** So you DO want to be more than friends!_

**_3:57 PM_ **

_**Virge Of Freaking Out:** GOODBYE, DAD!_

_**Lo On Fuel:** I love you, son._

_**Virge Of Freaking Out:** This relationship wouldn't work out if you didn't, dad._

_**3:58 PM** _

_**Lo On Fuel:** Shut up and let me love you, you coward._

Virgil gave a low chuckle and set his phone down on the table. He then proceeded to sit still, nibbling on his now-cold donut as the group around him continued their friendly banter. From across the booth, Roman's eyes caught his.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Roman tore his beautiful brown eyes away only to pull his phone out from his pocket. 

Seconds later, Virgil's phone vibrated. He checked the message and almost laughed out loud.

**_4:04 PM_ **

**_Roman Empire:_ ** _Yesterday, I was so sleep deprived that I started laughing at a fish for five minutes and almost died choking on my own spit._

Virgil covered his mouth with a hand, shaking to keep laughter from bubbling out. From the corner of his eye, he could see Roman's blurry face form a grin, lighting up with accomplishment.

**_Virge Of Freaking Out:_ ** _Honestly??_

**_4:05 PM_ **

**_Roman Empire:_ ** _I know fish don't seem that funny, but in the level of sleep deprivation I was in at the moment, those bubbly bois were the most hilarious things I had ever seen in my entire life._

Virgil giggled-- Yes, actually  _giggled_ \-- and typed a response.

**_4:05 PM_ **

**_Virge Of Freaking Out:_ ** _Why are you telling me this???_

**_4:06 PM_ **

_**Roman Empire:** C'mon. I'm the head star of the football team AND last year's Most Charming, according to the school yearbook. No one would believe you if you said Mr. Most Charming almost died choking on his spit._

Virgil grinned. That was true. Roman was last year's Most Charming, Best Voice, Most Likely To Dance In A Beyonce Video, Best Performer, Most Artistic, and Most Likely To Be A Professional Athlete. (He was also two year ago's Best Butt, but that wasn't important.) Virgil, however, was last year's Most Quiet. Oh, the difference.

**_4:07 PM_ **

**_Roman Empire:_ ** _Sorry for letting Joan drag you along, by the way. You look so uncomfortable here around strangers_

He looked up to see Roman offering him an apologetic smile. Virgil smiled back.

**_4:08 PM_ **

**_Virge Of Freaking Out:_ ** _No, it's okay. If Joan hadn't, then I'd never have learned about Mr. Charming's choking incident._

They both looked up from their phones -- Virgil's the newest model and Roman's new-but-not-the-newest -- and smiled fondly at each other as if sharing a joke.

**_4:09 PM_ **

**_Roman Empire:_ ** _Hey, you wanna go to the theater across the street?_

_**Virge Of Freaking Out:** I'm pretty sure it's closed. _

_**Roman Empire:** My dad owns it. I have the keys in my pocket, let's go with the group. You up for it?_

_**4:10 PM** _

_**Virge Of Freaking Out:** Sure_, _as long as Shakespeare's dead ghost isn't in there._

Roman stood up, and like the leader he is, he attracted the eyes of all the teens in the booth, lazily looking up at him, eyes asking them what he was doing. "C'mon, let's hang out in the theater."

With those words, everyone shrugged and stood up, stretching and following Roman out of the Krispy Kreme shop, gratefully thanking the workers. Virgil trailed behind them as the group crossed the street and entered the theater, walking down the hallways like they seemed to have done so many times before until they reached a large set of double doors.

The teens entered through the doors and went into what seemed to be a backstage area, full of props. Wooden swords, costumes, and set supplies were strewn around in the darkness of the backstage.

Virgil watched with curiousity as Roman and another person walked to a control panel and flipped numerous switches, lighting the large space. The illumination offered a better view of the space a respectable amount.

It was quite magical. People had already begun to mess around with the props, swinging the wooden swords and putting on some costumes. Virgil noticed Roman standing next to him.

"Your dad owns this place?" He asked, looking around in wonder. 

Roman nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. This is where I got my passion for the stage."

"And your drama queen attitude," Virgil added, walking around and examining the props as Roman formed offended noises in his throat.

"Jokes on you, I love being called a queen." Roman stuck his tongue out. Virgil snorted and lightly shoved him away. They continued to walk around in a comfortable silence.

Virgil picked up a fake rose. He glanced at Roman, still surprisingly next to him. " _What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet_."

Roman laughed. "You remembered those lines? You dork."

"Don't tell me you didn't," Virgil remarked, smirking. " _So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name, which is no part of thee take all myself._ " He smiled and gestured expectantly with the rose, gesturing for Roman to answer.

Quite strangely, Virgil didn't know where the sudden outburst of confidence came from, but that didn't discourage him from continuing. He silently thanked his Papa Patton for those acting lessons he made him take as a child.

Roman smirked at him, but made no move to continue the script. Virgil rolled his eyes. "Oh, Mr. Best Performer?" Virgil teased breaking character to poke fun at Roman's silence.  "Where's Romeo, Mr. Charming?"

Roman shook his head, laughing. "You want  Romeo?" He asked, leading an amused Virgil through another set of double doors. The opening doors revealed a dimly lit stage with some sort of balcony on the far right. He gestured as if presenting himself. "I'll give you Romeo!"

In the spur of the moment, Virgil ran up the concealed stairs, up to the balcony. Like the actor he was, Roman's expression gradually changed into that of longing. Roman had changed into Romeo. Romeo, a man in love with his Juliet, wanting nothing more than for Juliet to share his love.

Virgil's expression turned into Juliet's as he stood on the balcony, staring above him where the moon would be. Still holding the prop rose, he waited for Roman to deliver his lines. He didn't have to wait long.

The scene changed, and suddenly Virgil wasn't Virgil -- Virgil was Juliet under the imagined moon with her Romeo beneath the balcony.

" _I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo._ "

Virgil didn't want Roman to change for him. He was already as great and as amazing and as beautiful as is. He was a rose, unable to whither in Virgil's eyes. He was delicate and soft but powerful and... well, he was Romeo. And now that Romeo was speaking to Virgil as if he was Juliet. This seemed so much like a balcony scene, but Virgil couldnt bring himself to care.

Virgil looked down at the man below him and responded with a confused tone to match the scene, " _What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, so stumblest on my counsel_?"

He heard Roman's breath hitch in the silence of the stage. " _By a name, I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word_."

So far, nothing about Roman forbade the thoughts Virgil got when hanging around the dashing fellow. Other than the fact Roman was way out of his league, nothing indicated or forbid them from having a relationship. Maybe his name didn't say no, but... Maybe his friends begged to differ.

Maybe the difference in their popularity does matter. To put it simply, Roman was this god in highschool, this perfect figure people have come to worship. Virgil, on the other hand, was this peasant, ignored and unimportant in the social pyramid. A mere peasant couldn't be with a god, right? That alone is an unspoken rule, right?

He continued to stare at Roman's dim frame in acted confusion. " _My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?_ "

Roman shook his head as he delivered the next lines. " _Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike_."

Romeo was so eager to change for Juliet. Would Roman change for Virgil? Virgil wouldn't like that. Would Virgil change for Roman just as fast as Romeo for Juliet? He probably would. But should he? What would be the point of love if you'd have to change for someone else? And if he changed for Roman, would that mean Roman loved him, or would that mean Roman loved what he changed himself to be?

To love is to accept, is it not?

Virgil sighed to himself before continuing. " _How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here._ "

" _With love’s light wings did I o'erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out,_ " A new voice responded, the voice echoing around the empty theater. 

Roman shrieked in surprise, a high pitched sound cursed by the devil himself. The shriek, amplified by the emptiness of the room, made Virgil grab the sides of his head to block out the noise. He looked around for the source of the voice.

A man's frame, quite similar to Roman's own, appeared at the main entrance, illuminated by the hallway light behind him. Virgil squinted.

"Whoa, there!" The man exclaimed, half laughing as he walked towards Roman. The closer the man walked, the more of his face Virgil could see. He saw his defined face with almost cartoonic facial features. He saw his very, very similar brown eyes, aged with wrinkles on the side. He saw the uncanny resemblance the man held with Roman and his mouth dried.

Below the balcony, Roman reddened, stamping his foot to the wooden stage and turning his arms into fists as he exclaimed, "Da- _ad_!"

Virgil stood frozen in place as he stared beneath his balcony to see the man walking ever closer to Roman, laughing robustly at Roman's reaction. 

"Ro- _man_!" He mocked, mimicking Roman's embarrassed tone. Roman's dad looked up and caught Virgil's anxious eyes with his jovial ones and added, "And new friend, so it seems!"

Roman, red in the face with his hand covering half his face groaned like all teenagers do with their parents. Except this wasn't how teenagers groaned at their parents. Virgil would usually find it rude when teens did that, but Roman made it seem like he was faking the annoyance and was more amused. 

"Virgil, this is my dad, Thomas Prince," Roman introduced, shyly gesturing at his father who smiled and waved up at Virgil. "Dad, that's Virgil Knight, my theater partner and friend."

Virgil offered a shy wave. "Hi, Mr. Prince, I'm Virgil Knight, his theater partner and friend," he repeated anxiously, unsure of what to do with himself.

Mr. Prince laughed. "Oh my  _goodness gracious_!" Mr. Prince laughed, staring at Virgil with those happy, old eyes. "You're _precious_!"

"No, I'm Virgil Knight, Roman's theater partner and friend," Virgil corrected, mind short-circuiting at the sudden interruption of Roman's _f_ _ricken' FATHER._

Virgil fidgeted with the ends of his jacket sleeves. Mr. Prince snorted. "I can promise you it's a lot better down here," Mr. Prince called.

Virgil blushed. "Right, yeah, uhm." He walked down the stairs, unsure with what he was doing, and braced himself. This wasn't an actual  _dad, meet my boyfriend_ thing for sure, but the short and darkly dressed teen surd thought it was pretty damn close. 

 _First impressions,_ a voice in his head reminded.  _First impressions gotta count_.


	7. The Difference Between Love and Tragedy

When it came to Shakespeare and his works, the man truly did blossom during the romantic Victorian ages, plays gaining attention from his increasing fan groups as well as esteemed and popular poets who praised his work and recognized his talent with words. People were awed by the poetic and comedic plays and poetry.

Shakespeare blossomed during the romance era of his time. One could say he took advantage of the love in the streets to create works of love and tragedy. 

Needless to say, the emo boy who had just stumbled down the steps of the stage balcony was definitely not one to talk about "love" with. He believed in it, of course, with his infatuation with the one and only Roman Prince and everything, but acting on it with confidence and grace? Ha, nOPE.

Here he was, standing next to Roman with Roman's dad standing in front of him with a warm smile that combatted the intense intimidation aura Mr. Prince had been surrounded with, blinding all-teeth smile directed towards him with perfection and corners of his eyes aged well with wrinkles of an aging man. Roman looked like a prince, but Mr. Prince? He looked like a king, ruling with joy and warmth.

Virgil uncomfortably balanced on the balls of his feet in place, looking like an anxious peasant in the company of royalty. His hands stayed loosely at his sides, unsure on what to do with them. He shyly looked back at father and son, taking in the shocking resemblance between the two discreetly. 

Roman caught his eye, eyes flashing with concern once he noticed the darker clothed boy uncomfortably wrinkling his nose at the situation he was currently trapped in. No one could blame Virgil-- meeting new people was hard enough as is, but meeting new people that the people you already cared about? That's a challenge. Roman offered him a smile. Virgil gulped but returned the smile shakily.

After a second, Mr. Prince began to speak. "So, Virgil!" He began, enthusiastically smiling from ear-to-ear. "What do you want with my son?"

Roman began sputtering, lightly shoving his giggling dad as his tanned face became berry red with a flush. Unbeknownst to the two of them, Virgil was quite close to screaming at that exact moment, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying anything stupid. After all, how would you be able to say,  _Oh nothing, Roman's dad, I just want to kiss the everloving shit out of your son on a wall for, like, forever_ without offending the man?

Virge faked an awkward smile at the laughing Mr. Prince and the blushy Roman Prince who was currenrly occupied desperately telling his father to stop talking.

"Dad, sto- _op_!" Roman exclaimed between light and semi-joking punches. Mr. Prince continued to snicker as his son begged for him to stop embarrassing him in front of his friends.

"Relax, relax!" Mr. Prince calmed down, just enough for him to set his warm eyes at Virgil again. "I'm just kidding, Roman. How are you liking the theater so far, Virgil?"

Virgil blinked several times before stammering out an answer. "It's, uhm, great, Mr. Prince! I really like the space and everything. It looks wonderful."

Mr. Prince let out a burst of delighted smiles. "I'm glad! You know, many popular theatrical productions actually played in this theater!" Virgil offered a polite smile at the information which Mr. Prince beamed at. "And, Virgil, you can ditch the whole 'Mr. Prince' thing," he offered. "Call me Thomas. Everyone does. It helps me forget about how old I'm getting."

"Oh, uhm, okay, Mr. P-- Thomas." Virgil blushed bright red. 

Thomas flashed another trademark Prince smile, dashing and charming, but unlike Roman's, there was no arrogant tug at the lips which showed mischief and an awareness of how much better he was than anyone else. Thomas was Roman without the ego, he commented to himself.

Interrupting his thoughts, the father of a flippin' amazing human reincarnate of a Disney Prince waved a hand."I'll go backstage to check on some props and make sure nothing's broken," Thomas informed. "You boys can hang around here, if you'd like."

As soon as the royal figure exited the stage, Virgil let out a loud sigh of relief, and upon realization that Roman was still next to him, he cringed at the impoliteness. Roman merely laughed.

"Come on, Juliet," Roman snickered. "Let's get down the stage and sit down."

Virgil froze as he felt a warm hand lace on his own cold ones and squeeze lightly. Then he exploded with warmth, face blushing when the realization that Roman Prince  _was holding his McFucking hands oh my god is this a dream_ hit him like Cupid's arrow going straight through his face. Virgil could only nod and follow Roman down the stage steps and sit on the third row of seats facing the stage.

The taller teen released Virgil's hand to sit down, and Virgil internally slapped himself for missing the warmth. He faced Roman's direction. It was dark, sure, the only source of light being the ones above the stage, but somehow, Virgil had memorized how Roman's face had looked. From the beauty mark just under his left eye to that one strand of hair that he always caught Roman fumbling with during theater class, Virgil remembered. 

"So," Roman began, his voice sounding like a whispery echo next to Virgil, "what's your story, Virgil Knight?"

Virgil laughed. "Is this a romance movie cliche?" He asked jokingly, gaining the confidence he previously had onstage with Roman.

Surprisingly, Roman's breathy laugh trembled next to him, making a shiver go down his spine. "Could be if you wanted it to be," Roman replied, almost sounding like an offer. "I've seen enough movies to see where this scene goes."

Virgil didn't know what that meant or why it had made his face feel warm and fuzzy, so he decided to ignore it in favor of replying to Roman's previous question. "You asked me what my story was," he said. "As far as I know, my story isn't as exciting as the stories rich people have in television."

He felt Roman shrug next to him. "Maybe to you it isn't interesting, but to me, everything about you is interesting."

Virgil silently thanked the darkness for masking his blush. _He's not flirting_ , a voice inside his head stubbornly pressed,  _he's just nice. You know this, Virgil._

 _Shut up,_ another voice shushed the other.

"Oh, really?" Virgil thanked every deity out there for keeping his voice from cracking or trembling. 

He heard a laugh resonate next to him, deep and rough. "Yeah," Roman answered. "So, I see no reason for you to not tell your story, here, Virgil."

Virgil sighed. "Not much to tell. Give me questions."

A minute passed where Roman seemed to be choosing a question. "Were you adopted? Since, well, you have two dads and all...."

Virgil smiled. "No, not adopted. Logan, the guy you met who looked like he was ready to fight you, is my surrogate dad. He was kinda born into this whole 'you need an heir' family, but they weren't homophobic. They let Logan have a relationship with Patton, but my dads needed a son, so they got a surrogate."

"See? That's interesting." Roman bumped shoulders with him. Virgil smiled. "Next question: How are you so darn loaded?"

"My dad's a surgeon, father's a famous chef. That's pretty self-explanatory, seeing as how the job market today is only in favor of entertainers and human services."

"Being a surgeon is... just stabbing people back to life."

"Please never be a surgeon."

A shared laugh echoed around the dark and large seating area, melodic and in sync as how laughs shared among friends should be. After the laughter had simmered down to a comfortable silence, Roman continued to ask more questions regarding Virgil, tone of his voice never sounding bored. 

Roman legitimately sounded like he cared for Virgil and everything he was saying. Virgil appreciated that. He appreciated the feeling of having someone listen to him and what he had to say. He appreciated the questions and the interest in his life. He appreciated Roman for simply being Roman.

The chain of questions continued for shorter than Virgil would have liked. There was something comforting about talking to someone in the dark, though, just calmly chatting and cracking the occasional joke which could transform the silence of the room into a cave of echoed laughs and muffled chuckles. 

Time seemed to pass with just the two of them and their words and laughter and breathy chuckles and muffled sighs, and Virgil didn't want to say the exchange of the occasional words that sounded distinctly like a flirt was pulling him down the waves, farther and farther away from the shore and closer and closer into the unknown, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

And then time started up again.

Roman played with Virgil's palm, tracing the lines in the shape of an M with his index finger as he uttered his next question: "Are you in love with someone right now?"

The irony of the situation almost made Virgil laugh out loud. Roman, the person he would sell his soul for, was next to him, tracing the lines on his palm, and asking if he was in love with anyone. 

Should he answer with a lie and keep his feelings hidden? Should he confess his never-ending love for the boy next to him? Should he answer vaguely with a "maybe?" 

His reply was none of those. Instead, he chuckled quietly. "Yes," he answered truthfully, amused smile hidden by the dim lighting. "Yes, I am."  _With you,_ he added in his mind, not ready to confess just yet.

Roman nodded without missing a beat. "Cool," he said, voice calm. "I am too."

And just like that, Virgil's heart shattered. Thousands of the shards from the frail thing inside him scattered around his body, piercing through everything and causing Virgil's head to pound and body to stiffen. The shorter of the two could still feel the numb traces of Roman's index finger on his palm, not stopping as if nothing was wrong. 

Well, not in Roman's world there wasn't. As Roman's world continued to function regularly, Virgil's was falling apart. Two different people, both in the same place but both in different worlds.

At this moment, Virgil recalled the hard truth: _Romeo and Juliet_ was not a love story. It was a tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (O ᵕ O)
> 
> Ah yes, the sweet sound of the shippers screaming at me. I can almost hear the keysmashes from here on the moon.   
> [And yea this was, like, really short, but it was actually fun to write. I love writing metaphors and similes, they're amazing]


	8. Closer Than Ever, Farthest Apart

It took only a few moments for the balcony scene to commence in the Romeo and Juliet, a few hours if in real time and if the balcony scene really had happened in a midsummer night, exactly after the Capulet ball had taken place. 

Within moments after seeing Romeo's face, Juliet had already begun spewing out confessions to the moon, praising and pining after the charmingly handsome Romeo for what he was and what he can be. In one night, two "star-crossed" lovers met, kissed, and confessed under the moonlight and stars. 

And here was Virgil, hunched over in the school janitor closet, avoiding his Romeo, eyes glancing at the phone he'd just recently turned off, part of him wishing Roman would stop texting him and another wanting to strike up a conversation with the dramatic theater addict.

To Virgil, Roman was Romeo, but to Roman, someone else was Juliet. Did that make him Rosaline? He laughed silently to himself. At least he'll live while Romeo and Jules die.

 _I bet they'd make a great couple,_ Virgil thought hopelessly, feeling his self control diminish with every second he stared at his phone.

 _I bet we'd make a better couple, though,_ part of him sighed willing him to reach for the phone before flinching and pulling his hand away from the temptation. Virgil shook his head, locks of dyed purple hair falling over his make-upped face. He blew the hair away from his eyes, annoyed.

Three days. It had been three days successfully spent avoiding the theater nerd ever since _the incident_. He'd made sure to sit on a desk farthest away from Roman during theater, spent his nutrition breaks and lunches hiding off in some shadowy corner under those corridor stairs everyone had thought to be haunted, and while it was painful, he hadn't checked any of the messages Roman had been sending, but from the brief moments a notification had shown up on his phone screen, the messages seemed to be stories and jokes. 

Yes, they were distracting and pulled at Virgil's mind restlessly, but the hopeless teen couldn't get himself to delete Prince Charming's number from his phone. Every time he got close to blocking it, or just deleting the number from the memory card, a voice in his head  _screamed_ at him not to, and with annoyance, he hadn't. Not that deleting it would make much of a difference, he noted. He'd already memorized that ten digit number like the back of his hand. 

Virgil gave a conflicted noise between a sigh and a groan, glaring at the phone like a three-year-old would glare at their parents if they hadn't gotten the child a toy. He shoved the comparison between himself and a toddler away from his mind and got out of the school janitor closet, his hideout for the day, just in time to hear the bell ring, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of his last period: Performing Arts Class.

The boy in the patched-up design jacket dashed across the crowds that had begun to take over the hallway, avoiding any and all contact between any student who so much as looked at him, making a beeline to the class and sitting as far away from the popular teens who had already sat in the back of the class.

It was only a few minutes for the entire class to arrive. From the side of his eye, Virgil caught Roman's red letterman jacket and that arrogant smile adorning his  _stupid, perfect_ face. Virgil internally slapped himself and focused his attention on Ms. Dare who had begun her lesson.

"There are only two more weeks until the end of this semester--" a cheer from the class "--which means two more weeks until your Romeo and Juliet remakes are due." Grumbles and disappointed sighs mixed with maniacal laughter. "I want these to be a  _great_ way to learn the language of the Victorian times and I expect nothing less from your performances but perfection. To make use of today's block schedule, I'll allow for today's class to be you and your partners to be meeting and discussing your project. Ready, begin."

Virgil froze. Around him, people had already begun to move finding their partners and laughing or working on their projects, the atmosphere of the class becoming a cheery place filled with chatter and creaking chairs as well as the occasional "Dude I haven't even started."

On the desk next to him, Virgil watched with a beating heart as Roman sat, staring at him pointedly, clearly refraining from pouting. "You've been avoiding me," he said straight to the point.

Deny, deny, deny! Screamed the voice in his head.

"N-No," he denied poorly, busying himself from the conversation by taking his laptop out of his bag and averting his eyes, making sure they don't meet Roman's unconvinced face. "I don't, err, know what you're talking about."

He could almost feel the unimpressed expression on Roman's face, directed straight at him without an ounce of belief. "You have!" Roman pouted, edging closer to the boy who was furiously tapping the password on his laptop keyboard. 

"I have  _not"_ , Virgil continued to lie. God, he can feel that stare boring into his skull, stubbornly unimpressed with the obvious lie.

With a deadpan tone, Roman's voice asked, "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Virgil bit his lower lip, opening the word document his project had been saved in. It was obvious at this point: Roman knew he was lying.  _Well, make an excuse!_ the same voice in his head urged, close to panic.

"I was anxious," he said, which was only half the truth. Trying to shove the uncertainty and stutters from his voice, Virgil continued under Roman's quizzical stare. "I mean, you're Mr. Popular. You hang out with populars, not unextraordinary teens like me. I was anxious about how people would think if they'd seen peasant in presence of king."

There were several flaws in the lie, but Virgil much favored it over saying,  _Oh, yeah, I was avoiding you because your stupidly perfect face will be the death of me, and knowing that cute little eye of yours is set for someone else to love will most definitely tear my fucking soul up, you goddamn god, I both loathe and love you and it's tearing me apart._ Thankfully, the lie evened out.

"You don't have to do that," Roman pressed, softer voice this time. "Might I remind you that I almost died choking on my unholy saliva?"

"No one else knows that," Virgil countered, and even though he'd tried to suppress it, a soft smile showed on his face, humoured by Roman's words. 

Roman arched an eyebrow. Wordlessly and under Virgil's questioning stare, he dug his phone out of his pocket and inched closer to Virgil to allow the shorter a view of his phone. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, Roman tapped on the messaging app and tapped a group chat labeled  _Honey Nut Queerios._

Without speaking, Roman pressed his fingers on the keys until one message was typed out and sent for the group chat to see. Virgil quickly read it, trying hard not to focus too much on how close Roman sat next to him and actually read fast.

_**HONEY NUT QUEERIOS** _

_**2:24 PM** _

_**Roman Empire:** One time, I was jamming out to "Alexander Hamilton" while jumping on my bed and I lost footing and accidentally fell off my bed, and that was the real reason I came to school two months ago wearing a bandage on my arm._

Virgil, against his will, laughed, covering his mouth while he did it in a habit, laughter coursing through his body and the giggles he tried hard to suppress shaking him slightly. Calming himself long enough, he found Roman had gotten closer, but convinced himself that Roman had only wanted to provide him with a better view of the phone and the replies that came in.

**_2:25 PM_ **

**_The Joangle Book:_ ** _Hahaha Roman wtf? Why are you like this_

_**Talynted Gremlyn:**????? _

_**2:26 PM** _

_**Talynted Gremlyn:** you told me u were conducting a new exercise routine and accidentally fell over????? this is betrayal how dare you akskdkdwkwsxsaafzfz_

_**2:27 PM** _

_**It's Terrence Me Apart:** I kind of thought he was hoolahoop-ing like in B99 and he just didn't want to admit it but now we have screenshots of the Truth(tm)_

_**Valerie the Valkerie:** Omg. Roman im definitely using this as blackmail material you do realize this right?_

_**CamCam:** I'm going to make a compilation video of people falling from their beds and edit romans face over their faces. guys find me a bad picture of roman i need it_

Next to him, Virgil heard Roman form a choked sound from his throat and snickered as Roman furiously typed on the phone and hit send.

**_2:29_ **

**_Roman Empire:_ ** _b l o c k e d_

Roman pocketed his phone shortly after, but quiet notification rings would occasionally erupt from his pocket, reminding the two boys that the conversation was still going. "I humiliated myself for you to prove a point, will you stop avoiding me now?"

Ignoring the pang in his heart that reminded him that Roman was basically already taken in favor of that pout on the latter's face, Virgil mused out loud jokingly, "Well, I don't know.... What else would you do for me, Princey?"

A glare of determination showed up in Roman's eyes. "I would take a bullet for you, Pacific Dim _._ "

Virgil raised an eyebrow, amusement reaching its peak. "Pretty gutsy. Don't say that, though. For all you know, we could be in a movie and you just triggered a death flag."

"Aww," Roman purred. "Does Blue Clue over here not want me dead?"

Virgil snorted, fending a blush away. "Not before this project is finished, at least."

A playful glare and a light punch to the shoulder and everything was okay again. That sinking pit in his stomach disappeared momentarily, and even though Virgil believed that this Victorian play may not be his chance at being the guy who swept Roman up his feet, Roman sure swept him off his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gAsp*  
> Oh my gosh she updated a boring chapter. Heck, yea, I know it kinda does nothing right now, but I promise it?? Kinda plays a part??? Later on???? I dont know, I honestly don't plan these out dont believe me anything that I say is false news--
> 
> But anYhow! I'll be participating (at least unless I change my plans) in NaNoWriMo for this year!! With an Analogical fanfic thing!! So I might have to balance OBAOS's update schedule with the new fic!!! I dont know, I'm pretty trash at sticking with schedules.
> 
> With that said, I also have a whole lot of art class homework that I should be working on but whAtever I'll just be a failed art student living under a bridge and 300 years from now, people are finally going to realize my worth and hang up my 300 year old paintings in museums just like Picasso and whatever! 
> 
> Til next time!!   
> -alex


	9. Fathers and Son

The esteemed poet by the name of William Shakespeare admittedly did have similar traits with the young and misunderstood modern teen by the name of Virgil Knight.

The both of them were both artists in performance, ability to achieve in what they do, surpassing other's expectations by the millions. Both their fathers were well-known people, Mr. Shakespeare's in the world of politics and Mr. Knight's in the world of health and service. 

Taking a closer look into the whole agenda of their fathers, Virgil found himself wondering if the entire thing with the dad in politics somehow affected Shakespeare's life with the amount of time he spent with his own father.

Shakespeare's father was an avid political worker, serving in town councils in more than one position and being elected in several positions of importance. He was a notable man, much like Logan Knight, who saved hundreds of lives from the grasps of death, and Patton Knight, who brought his service with his talents in the kitchen, earning himself the shining medal of being the century's world-wide proclaimed best chef.

Sure, those achievements were all very fine and dandy, but they often caused Virgil to miss out with the normal life of a normal teen, finding himself alone most days in an all-too-big house, leaving thoughts his only company as he wandered around the cold halls. As great as his fathers were, Virgil sometimes found himself hoping that they weren't so significant in the career world so more time could be focused less on their jobs and more their son. It sounded selfish, yes, but could you blame a teen who had only one-to-two days a week with his fathers?

Virgil sighed to himself in the roomy space of one of his bedrooms, turning over the bed he currently laid on to find a better position to sleep in. Finding his efforts to fall asleep futile, Virgil checked the time on his phone. One AM. 

Well, that settled it, he decided, sitting up in a defeated position. He was not going to sleep tonight.

Virgil shimmied out of the blankets he'd wrapped himself in and threw on a sweater over his bare upper half. Standing up unsteadily and gaining his footing on the cold ground, Virgil made his way to the hallway and down the stairs, keeping his steps light and steady as to not wake anyone in the mansion up.

After the second set of descending stairs, Virgil stood on the main floor, unsure of what to do for a moment before deciding to get himself an unhealthy snack.

Tip-toeing across the cold tiles of the kitchen, Virgil scoured through the fridge, hoping to find something that would tickle his fancy and make him hungry. Nothing. Opting for a second choice, Virgil grabbed a small tub of ice cream and went through the cupboards to get a large spoon. 

The pale teen was about to take his first bite when the lights of the kitchen suddenly turned on, brightness blinding Virgil momentarily. Shocked, Virgil's head snapped to the light switch. 

An exhausted looking Patton in a light pink bathrobe rubbed his eyes, glasses askew and hair a mess of honey colored curls. "Virgil...?" Patton asked groggily, freckled face a mixture between confused and tired.

Virgil set the icecream down on the island. "Yeah, it's me," Virgil confirmed, smiling sheepishly and apologetically. "Sorry if I woke you up, pops."

Patton offered a weak smile. "No, it's okay," he yawned. "I was going to get ready for work, anyway."

Virgil frowned. Of course. "Oh." Seeing the concerned look Patton's face made at the sight of his frown, Virgil plastered on a fake smile to assure everything was okay. "Meeting?"

Patton nodded, walking towards the coffee machine as he answered, "Yeah. New health regulations for restaurants have been updated, and I think I'll have to inspect some restaurants to see if they're healthy enough or not."

The whirring of the coffee machine cut through the silence of the cold morning air. "When are you gonna be back?" Virgil asked.

A sad smile formed on Patton's lips. He shrugged. "Probably late at night, kiddo."

Virgil's face fell, and although he tried to hide it, Patton could so obviously see through the facade as he poured a cup of coffee for himself and made his way to sit next to Virgil on the kitchen island.

"Not so glum," Patton's voice said. "I'll be back before you know it. What are you doing up, anyway? It's a school day, Virge."

A sigh escaped his pale lips. "Couldn't sleep."

Virgil's dad sipped from his coffee mug thoughtfully. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Virgil retrieved his icecream and shoveled a spoonful of sweet vanilla in his mouth. "I was too busy thinking about Shakespeare."

A sly smirk found it's way on Patton's face. "Speaking of Shakespeare...." his dad drawled, a mischievous smile plastered on his freckle-filled face, "how's your project going?"

Virgil rolled his eyes but laughed nonetheless. "You don't care about the project," he accused jokingly, smiling knowingly.

Patton stuck his tongue out playfully. "You're right, I don't," he confessed, giggling. "Tell me about Roman!"

Virgil half-groaned, half-chuckled. "He's fine, pops."

"Bet how he's feeling isn't the only thing 'fine' about him," Patton winked. Virgil's face flushed with color as he playfully shoved his father at the statement, embarrassed at the mere thought of it. Although the embarrassment was plenty, his dad wasn't wrong. Roman had a pretty face and pretty hair and not to mention his cute butt--

"I know that look way too well," Patton said, a fond smile on his gentle face. "That's the look your father gets when he looks at crofters jam. You, my son, have developed a crush."

Virgil groaned. Was he really that obvious?

Patton leaned on the kitchen island, nodding while smiling. "Yeah," he answered, smirk playing on his lips as he raised his mug for another sip of coffee.

Virgil groaned. Did he really say that out loud?

"Yep," Patton answered once again, sparkle in his sky blue eyes showing deep amusement. "You have a crushy crush crush on Roman!"

The teen in the sweater sighed, content yet sad. "Not like it'll be possible to be with the guy anyway," he admitted, sullen expression plastered on his porcelain face. 

Patton mimicked the expression with a questioning look. His eyes pleaded for answers, and Virgil complied. "He said he loved someone already."

Patton raised a skeptical eyebrow, sipping from his mug. "How'd you get this information from him?"

"Well, he asked me if I liked anybody--"

"Stop."

Virgil froze. There was another amused sparkle in his father's eye, yet the reason it would be there eluded him. Patton continued to smile, almost gawking but not quite. "Nope," Patton said. "Nope nope nope, I am not doing this. Dear gosh, you are just like your father."

A questioning eyebrow. Patton just laughed and sipped more coffee. They stood in silence for a while, father and son enjoying each other's silent company. Subtly breaking the silence, Patton asked, "What do you like about him?"

Not even knowing where it came from, Virgil spewed out the smallest things he found to love in the football quarterback. An ever-growing sea of adoration for the young man slipped from Virgil's tongue as if he'd been holding it back with a dam finally broken from Patton's question. 

"Oh my god, dad, his hair looks so fluffy, I really want to pet it, but I'm scared I'll mess the hair up and oh gosh, it's so floof, dad, it's so floof! And he always has that one strand of hair falling on his face and I know he's annoyed by it, but god he's so cute. He's always smiling and he is the hugest dork I've ever met, but he's still so cool and... God, he's just so  _pretty._ "

"Who's just so pretty?" Logan's deep voice asked from the doorway of the kitchen, scratchy from sleep and drawled on by exhaustion.

Color spread across Virgil's face as he realized he was on a gushing tangent. Logan, wearing an extremely oversized sweater and pyjamas, rubbed his eyes tiredly, glasses perched atop his head like sunglasses. The analytical dad walked towards his husband and son. Logan gave Patton a gentle kiss on the lips with a grunted "Good morning, my dear" and ruffled his son's hair up, much to the other's displeasure. 

Patton offered Logan the pot of coffee which Logan took gratefully, sipping the liquid from the pot itself. After a hearty drink, Logan looked between the two and frowned, a mock pout appearing on his lips. "Are we talking about boys?" He questioned, eyebrow raised in an almost accusatory fashion.

Virgil groaned and buried his face on in his hands. Patton snorted and joined his husband, bumping shoulders with Logan who swiftly wrapped Patton's waist in his arms. Logan's pout intensified. "This is absolutely unacceptable. My son won't talk to his favorite father about a boy, yet he'll gladly blurt poetry about love to the other father. Unbelievable."

Virgil rolled his eyes, still red in the face with embarrassment, and Patton sputtered. " _You're_ the favorite dad?" Patton demanded, turning to face his partner.

Logan offered an apologetic smile. "Because... you're the mom of the relationship...?" He tried, trying and failing to take back his words to escape an argument.

"Oh, please," Virgil laughed, joining in. "If anything, dad,  _you're_ the mom of the relationship."

"I accept that," Logan smirked. "But isn't the son supposed to go to the mom for relationship advice?"

"Not if the son is gay," Virgil argued, smirk one-upping his father's. "In that case, he talks to the better source."

Patton beamed proudly as Logan took another swig of his coffee pot, muttering, "Betrayal."

The two other men in the room laughed at Logan's response before falling into a comfortable silence again. A small beeping from Logan's wrist watch interrupted the silence. Logan sighed, finishing up the rest of his coffee before putting the pot in the sink and turning the watch alarm off.

"I have to get ready for work," Logan stated, giving his spouse a quick kiss on the temple once more and patting Virgil on the back lightly with a smile. "I have a busy day at the hospital today."

Patton sighed. "I do, too," he said, setting his mug of coffee down on the sink along with the pot and standing next to Logan.

Virgil's face fell, and before he could cover it up, Patton had already seen. Instead of pressuring his son to open up, Patton offered a kind smile. "You wanna wait til I'm ready and we can go to Wal-Mart before work to buy you some chips?" Patton offered. "I won't be home to cook tonight. Don't want you starving."

Virgil accepted the smile and formed his own. "Sure, dad. Would it be cool if I brought Roman to work on our project here today?"

Logan's expression turned stony. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Logan warned.

"Or do," Patton urged, winking.

"Patton!" Logan protested. Patton just blinked innocently. He groaned defeatedly, rubbing the temples of his face. "Just... no surprises. Call us if there's an emergency, and if you want something, you know the credit card numbers, alright?"

"Yeah, dad."

"Good."

And with that, Virgil's father's walked out of the room, heading upstairs hand-in-hand as Logan scolded Patton about wearing a cardigan to an important meeting to which Patton responded with a teasing, "I'm famous, I can do what I want."

A smile found itself on Virgil's face. "I bet Shakespeare didn't have this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of just a small insight on the life of Virgil since I wanted something out by today, but the next chapter should be ready AT LEAST in one to three days. I just need to finish it and I'm already halfway through, so expect that in the next few days! :D
> 
> -alex


	10. A Prince Must Dress Like One

In the overly exaggerated play that was Romeo and Juliet, people could argue that the main person at fault for the lovers' deaths was the friar who was in charge of delivering Juliet's plan of faking death to the handsome Romeo. 

The messenger, failing to tell Romeo of the plan lead the young man to enter Juliet's tomb and believe that his love had passed. 

Romeo never knew that Juliet had not really been dead and because of that, Romeo had fallen into the sadness of his own mind and killed himself in the process, mere moments before Juliet promptly woke up from her death trance and laid her eyes described by Romeo as the stars on her lovers dead body. Just like Romeo had before her, Juliet took her own life, and this time, she didn't wake up.

Something so small like a message that went undelivered caused such a large misunderstanding which lead two star-crossed lovers to greet death by the hand.

"--and that is why it was the friar's fault that the two of them died," Virgil finished, watching Roman's reaction as he sat on his living room couch, grabbing a handful of potato chips from a bag and putting them in his mouth.

"Wow," Roman gasped from his sprawled out position in one of Virgil's armchairs. "You totally analyzed every single line of this play. Didn't take you for the lovey-dovey productions, Virgil Knight."

Virgil snorted, crumbs of chips falling on the expensive couch. "Oh, I'm not," he laughed. "Six people died in this production, how could I not overanalyze?"

The teen in the armchair in front of him rolled his eyes. "Shut up and hand me those chips, wanna-be edgelord."

"I did not put on my killer make-up to be bullied, rejected Disney prince," Virgil teased. Despite that, he threw the bag of chips at Roman, hitting the boy square on the face. He laughed as Roman glared jokingly.

Roman huffed and shoved a fistfull of chips on his mouth. "Oh my god," Roman drawled. "Why do  _chips_ taste more expensive at your house, too?" 

Virgil laughed. "Dad got that at Wal-Mart, stupid."

"Is there a spot in Wal-Mart reserved for rich people that peasants like me can't go to?" Roman joked, eating more chips.

"Not that I know of," Virgil played along. "I don't do my own shopping, my payed peasants do." Roman rolled his eyes, though the smirk betrayed the look. "But seriously, though, I literally got those chips for like two dollars when I was at Wal-Mart with my dad at two am today."

"What were you doing at Wal-Mart at that hour? I didn't even know they were still open at that time."

"They aren't. While those cost two dollars, dad bribed the manager to let us shop for another hour, like, a hundred dollars."

"Oh my god.... I suddenly feel very insignificant."

"Nooo," Virgil whined. "You're super significant."

Color spread across Roman's nose as he rolled his eyes and continued shoveling down chips. Virgil sighed and yawned, getting a bit too comfortable sitting on his couch. "Besides," Virgil continued, yawns drawling his words out, "I can never find anything fun to spend my money on."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "What?" He exclaimed. "You're a _teen_ who is _rich_ and you don't know where to spend your fricken money?!"

Virgil shrugged. "I've never really thought about it. I mean, yeah, I see those movies where the rich kid is a spender, but... most things don't capture my attention, and I never care enough to buy things that do."

Roman's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Seems fair," he shrugged. "So, why are you at performing arts class? You never sign up for any actual theatrical productions the school puts up and you don't seem interested in the subject at all."

Virgil shrugged. "I thought it was neat, and I'm good enough as is, so it seemed fun." He sat up with a grunt. "And speaking of performing arts class, we should probably work on our project now."

Roman groaned lazily. "What haven't we already done?"

The teen still in his dark school wear thought. Roman was right. They've already modernized the script, and they were both equally confident that their performance would be delivered swiftly and without mistakes from the past hours they spent reciting their lines. What  _haven't_ they already done?

A realization struck Virgil in the face. "Costumes," he whispered in epiphany. "We haven't gotten costumes!"

Roman bolted upright. "Costumes!" He exclaimed. "Oh, I  _love_ costumes!"

"Great!" Virgil gleefully said, retrieving his laptop from the coffee table and opening up to an online shopping site. "We're getting costumes."

Adjusting himself so that Roman sat next to him comfortably, Virgil clicked on the search bar and typed in  _Romeo and Juliet costumes._

The first to show up was an old-looking thing with much too many frills and the fabric being the color of a bland sort of dirt. The two boys made a face and scrolled on. Though the light of his laptop was a great distraction, the young emo next to the princely figure had to physically keep himself from glancing at Roman. Can you blame the anxious ladle? Roman's hot breath reached his cheeks, of course he'd be distracted.

With the smell of sweet caramel next to him, Virgil continued to scroll silently, occasionally making a face as some costumes and hovering his hand over a few that seemed pretty. 

A glint of gold on the screen caught his eye. A brilliant picture of a prince costume stared back at him-- long sleeved with gold hems and embroidery topped with a red sash which looped around the waist before connecting together. The pants were a pristine white with knee-high black leather boots and aesthetically pleasing boot straps. 

Virgil tried to imagine Roman in the costume and mentally screamed. Roman in a prince costume, amplifying the levels of cool the jock already was. Roman in a prince costume, his eyes standing out in a sea of white cloth and his perfect curls restrained by a crown. Roman Prince.

He suddenly felt himself heating up. Next to him, Roman sat, smiling with a questioning look. "Are you quite alright, my chemically imbalanced romance?"

 _No._ "Oh, hahaaaa.... is it hot in here, I think it's hot in here!" Virgil coughed. "What do you think of this costume for Romeo?"

Roman, clearly amused, shrugged. "It looks very princely. Dashing, charming, and great. In other words, I'll look very hot."

"You already look very hot," Virgil muttered, just quiet enough for it to be inaudible.

"What?"

"I SAID GREAT, LET'S ORDER IT, HAAAAA--"

Virgil quickly typed in an order, checked in fast delivery, and entered his credit card information, trying to calm his  _gay fucking ass down, Virgil you absolute fool, stop pining for one lovely moment--_

Roman watched curiously as he internally panicked, trying to calm down and get a professional view on things instead of getting himself all red. 

"There's a matching outfit in black and purple," Roman pointed out. "Should be a good Juliet?"

Virgil pictured the image in his head. A matching prince outfit in his color scheme. He wouldn't look as good in the costume as Roman, but he thought it would be satisfactory. He nodded. "Good thinking," Virgil praised absentmindedly, ordering the matching costume without a second thought.

Roman seemed to falter at the surprised compliment at first, but he regained his posture and beamed. "I'm great, I know."

"Well," Virgil began, retaking the bag of chips, "what d'ya wanna do now?"

Roman shrugged, leaning back on one of the couch cushions. "I'm pretty drained," he confessed. "We just practiced our lines for, like, two hours, and I feel like death. All I wanna do is sleep."

"Who says you can't?" 

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Common courtesy? You don't go to someone's house and nap."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "I once went to a family trip to Italy with my dads. All I did in Italy was nap for a week and eat gelato. If you cut the line at visiting a house and sleeping, then I should be put on trial for visiting a country and sleeping."

"You're-- You're serious?" Roman questioned, face contorted as if waiting for Virgil to shout  _"sike"_ and laugh.

Virgil did no such thing. "Of course I'm serious. Here, get up."

Roman stood. Virgil took the couch apart and rolled out a pull-out bed. Virgil rearranged the couch cushions into pillows. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll get you a blanket. You might want to call your parents if you wanna stay late at my house, though."

Roman took another skeptical look before shrugging and doing as he was told while Virgil excused himself from blankets. Returning into the spacious living room, Virgil found a Roman, asleep and face angelic. A smile on his face and a small tint of pink at his cheeks, Virgil covered Roman with the blanket before scooting on the far side of the pull-out bed and turning on a random channel on the TV.

Despite having felt okay and without a desire to sleep the entire day, Virgil couldn't remember but he drifted asleep, the background noise of the TV channel fading away as darkness greeted him entirely.

* * *

"Patton!" Someone whisper shouted. "There's a boy in our couch only three feet from my son! Patton, can I stab him!"

"You're not stabbing anyone!" A different voice scolded. 

"Patton, I wanna stab him!"

"Don't you _dare_!"

"Patton, we have good lawyers, they'll cover the murder up!"

"Logan, I am  _this_ close to stabbing _you_!"

"Stab me _after_ I stab the boy!"

" _Logan!_ "

"Okay, fine! I won't stab the boy!"

"The fact that I had to threaten you with murder to get you to get to your senses says a lot."

"Patton, you'd better wake them up to explain before I grab a kitchen knife and stab him."

"Oh my  _god,_ Logan-- Fine! Virgil, wake up, your father might stab your friend, wake up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE  
> [This entire chapter was made to sneak something in, but ya know.]  
> I'm not very proud of this chapter


	11. And At Your Feet, My Fortunes Will Lay

What few people know about William Shakespeare was his living of a double life. When people hear the surname "Shakespeare," they immediately think: Playwright and poet. Such was the same in London.

During his time on Earth, Shakespeare was known as a playwright and poet in London, performing in his own plays which he wrote himself, but in his hometown in Stratford, Shakespeare was known by his family and neighbors as an esteemed property owner and businessman.

Known very much so as an actor and artist of words by many, but just as well-known as a businessman to others. 

This can be applied in numerous situations in Virgil's life. 

To the students in school, Virgil was some dude dressed in ratty attire and supplied with bitten pencils from stressbiting them during tests and damaged textbooks from the multiple occasions of dropping them, but to that receptionist in the five star restaurant Logan had taken him to two weeks ago, he was the son of a famous surgeon and a famous chef, rich beyond belief.

Virgil's identity was split up into hundreds of thousands of variations. To some, he was a stranger in the streets, to others, he was a priviledged kid, but to himself, he was just... Virgil. A teen with too much anxiety and too little interest in the world.

It had never occurred to him that such was the same to every other person he met. Just like him, Patton led multiple identities, whether it be a father for him, a husband for Logan, and a chef for the world. Just like him, Logan was known by multiple views, being a father, husband, and surgeon. 

And Roman.

Roman led too many identities. Roman put all of himself out there, or at least made it seem like he did. Roman was... Roman. He showed people a loud and boisterous spirit, an extroverted soul out for adventure, and Virgil had thought he'd known how Roman was.

But up until a week ago, Virgil didn't know the quiet and sarcastic and poetic Roman. The truth is, no matter how many times you think you've figured someone out, they always find a way to surprise you.

Saturday morning taught Virgil as much.

After the whole fiasco with Logan's need to stab anything that harmed his precious baby Virgil angelcake, Patton had treated Roman with one of his leftover cakes while they waited for Roman's dad.

Roman's dad didn't turn out to be Thomas.

"Hey, Ro, sorry I'm late," the man behind the lightly tinted sunglasses apologized, handing Roman a Starbucks drink. "Don't tell Thomas I gave you caffeine in this hour or he'll get angry and not kiss me goodnight. You know how it is, a boy's gotta have his kisses."

Roman snorted. Virgil froze. Oh his holy goshness. Two dads! He'd never met anyone with the same experience in having two dads as him!

Before Virgil knew it, Logan had stood from his place in the couch to greet the visitor, hand offered for a handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prince, I'm Logan Knight." 

Virgil rolled his eyes at the all-too-professional greeting before standing up and joining his father with his dad. Thankfully, Roman's father didn't seem to mind the formality and instead rolling with it and shaking Logan's hand. "Remy Prince, pleasure's all mine."

"I trust your son had a good experience in my household," Logan continued, ignoring the eyeroll from Patton at how formal he was being.

Roman cleared his throat and laughed nervously. "Yes, uhm... sir. I had a good time, judging from the hours I didn't spend sleeping," he joked lightly.

Logan nodded. "Yes, next to my son, I recall."

Virgil subtly elbowed his father. "Right. Well, it was nice hanging out, I'll get the costumes to you when they come I'll see you at school Monday, hahaaaah--"

And with that, the two families had parted, the Princes heading out to leave Logan, Patton, and Virgil alone. Patton fixed Logan with a stare. "You definitely scared them away."

Virgil snorted. "Good night, dads."

"You still have time to sleep after that?" Patton asked with a raise of his eyebrows. "Didn't you just wake up?"

Virgil shot Patton with finger guns. "There's never too much sleep, dad."

Logan groaned. "That is not healthy."

"But it feels good."

Logan rolled his eyes. "It's two am, Virgil."

"Never stopped me before."

The disaster dads sighed as Virgil made his way up the grand staircases, already yawning.

* * *

Monday morning. 

The weekend had gone faster than Virgil had hoped, but with a weekend off with his fathers, time seemed to speed up with the fun. He dreaded the school day, and Monday in general, but Virgil sucked it up, balancing the stupid trashiness of Monday with the perfect opportunity to see Roman again.

And see Roman he did.

The teen named after an empire just as great as he was stood tall atop the world, grinning wildly as he laughed just before the bell rang signaling the beginning of performing arts class.

Virgil, not wanting to interrupt the small crowd that had gathered around the great Empire, sat at the far back corner of the class, taking out his Romeo and Juliet script just as Ms. Dare began her lesson.

"You have a week!" Ms. Dare reminded. "One week before your projects are due. Today will just be a checkup on productivity. I trust all of you have at least gotten through modernizing the script?"

A few nervous laughs wracked up the classroom. Ms. Dare frowned, zeroing her green eyes on the class. "Mr. Prince, Mr. Knight? Were you productive?"

Virgil nodded. Roman raised an eyebrow, pulling his lips in a smirk. "Ms. Dare, you know I am," Roman joked. "When was I ever not?"

Ms. Dare rolled her eyes. "In literally every other project I've assigned with you, Roman. I've called your parents, and they have admitted to saying that in every other project I've assigned, you procrastinated until the last day."

A laugh settled around the class along with exclamations of, "Exposed!" and "Ms. Dare's got the tea!" Roman laughed with them, a boisterous and infectious noise which only put up the volume of the already loud class of theater nerds.

Ms. Dare smiled playfully. "Oh, you know I'm just kidding with you, Mr. Prince. But really though... I'm glad to hear you're finally being productive. Maybe I should partner you up with Mr. Knight more."

Roman glanced at Virgil in the back of the room flirtaciously and turned back at Ms. Dare. "I wouldn't be opposed to that idea," he shrugged, smirking with a deadly glint in his eyes. 

Another wave of noise from the class, this time with exclamations of, "Oooooh!'s" and "Get a room!'s." Virgil was thankful for the heavy foundation he had put on this morning as it hid the gigantic blush overtaking his cheeks. Roman merely smiled, throwing Virgil a discreet wink that went unnoticed and only succeeded in worsening Virgil's blush. 

Ms. Dare continued. "Alright, well... Mr. Solace, Mr. di Angelo, your project?"

"Solace won't participate in the project!" A student at the back exclaimed as the class moved on from the Roman and Virgil fiasco and moved on the black haired teen and the blond at the front.

"Nico's too stubborn! He won't let me work on anything!"

"That's because your ideas are  _stupid!_ "

"Ms. Dare, listen to him!"

"I only tell truths!"

"Truth is, you are an uncooperative, uptight, and stubborn asshole!"

All the background noise faded as Virgil went back to daydream mode, doodling random pictures on the margins of his play script, open to a random page on his script which coincidentally was the balcony scene.

His eyes skimmed over the words, lips syncing in the words. He looked at Roman who was snickering at the two boys who were being scolded by the teacher before sighing defeatedly and reciting, " _And all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay / And follow thee my lord throughout the world_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uggh I'm sorry at the late chapter, I wasn't feeling up to it this week. It's not my best chapter but I felt like I needed to put something out there at least....
> 
> Again, sorry for the late and sucky chapter. I'll try to make it up? Maybe? If I can?
> 
> -al


	12. Three Princes And A Walking Personification Of Panic

William Shakespeare, aside from being a playwright and poet, also acted in his very on plays, taking the role of multiple men in his theatrical productions by choice. He was very capable in his field of work, able to tackle on any and all roles within his reach, and if they were beyond his reach, Milkshakespeare extended his reach.

With the many roles he wrote and  the many he performed, Virgil wondered if William Shakespeare ever got stage jitters, because the young Mr. Knight himself sure is, and he wasn't even performing yet.

Pre-performance jitters had turned into pre-performance panic as days went by and suddenly it was Wednesday and Virgil's and Roman's performance would happen in two days. For such an introverted and independent person, the start of Virgil's panic upon hearing a performance in front of his class would occur in no later than two days was not that hard to believe.

Instead of the usual walking stick of nervousness he always showed himself to be, Virgil had become a walking stick of anxiety. He'd checked his papers and documents and made sure they were all correct. He'd made Roman double check everything they had  and later on checked them once again himself. Hell, he'd even forced his fathers to reread all his work to make sure everything was okay. Roman, Patton, and Logan alike insisted everything was perfect, but Virgil merely squinted at the three and muttered, "I don't believe you."

"Okay, that's it!" Roman exclaimed upon seeing Virgil's feet nervously sway under the desk. Class had long since been dismissed, and everyone else had packed up.

"What's it?" Virgil asked, feet still swaying as he packed up his script. 

Roman arched an eyebrow as if to say,  _Are you kidding me?_ "You are worrying over  _nothing,_ Virgil. We're getting you a distraction."

The teen in the monochrome wardrobe raised a finger. "First off, I'm worrying about my future, and second off, I don't need a distraction! I'm perfectly fine. The adrenaline of my anxieties is just helping me pump out the old circulatory system."

Roman rolled his eyes, standing up with his backpack over his shoulder, Virgil following suit. "If your heart starts pumping more than it already is because of your anxieties, I might have to rush you to the hospital for a heart attack, Knight."

Virgil made a dismissive gesture with his hands, following Roman into the hallway. "See, now that's just impossible. Can't have a heart attack if you have no heart."

Roman glanced over at the teen currently firing him finger guns. "Wow," he breathed. "You are an overly edgy mess."

"I appreciate the compliment, rejected Disney prince," Virgil snorted. 

The pair neared the end of the hallway, the casual passerby shooting Roman a nod or a highfive while they ignored the blur of black and purple next to him. Virgil didn't mind, he was used to being in the dark, and being in the dark meant not having to remember strangers' names. 

"But seriously, though," Roman continued, returning a nod to a boy who had initiated the silent greeting as they passed by. "You need a distraction."

"What do you suppose we do, then?"

Roman shrugged. "What do you usually do to distract yourself from that dark chasm in your mind."

Virgil mimicked the shrug. "I find something else even more anxiety-inducing and realize: Gee, compared to how deep and mysterious the ocean is, my project is nothing."

"That is... not healthy." Roman blinked. "How are you still _alive_?"

The shorter of the two sighed. "I ask myself the same question every day."

Another roll of eyes accompanied by a wave to a passing student who smiled back in response. After about the seventh student in the hall, Virgil glanced at Roman and smirked. "Dude, do you know everyone in this school?"

A shrug. "I knew your name before I drew the piece of paper with your handwriting on it, believe it or not," Roman informed the pleasantly shocked teen before opening one of the double doors at the end of the hall and gesturing for Virgil to walk through the doors while he held it open.

Said teen narrowed his eyes at his taller friend, walking through the doors. "I don't believe you."

Roman glanced at Virgil, a smirk dancing on his lips. "I've known your name since Freshman year. I saw you on the first day."

"Ha!" Virgil exclaimed. "I didn't go to performing arts class on the first day of freshman year. I had to go home before lunch even began."

Roman shook his head. "I didn't see you in performing arts. I saw you in the morning. You were wearing huge earphones under the campus pine tree and reading-- coincidentally --a page of  a classic Shakespeare work. I didn't know your name until the next day, but I did dub you as 'Anxiety' in my head."

Virgil's eyes widened. Even _he'd_ forgotten about that day under the tree, and he _lived_ it! Proven wrong, Virgil let out a low chuckle. "Okay, okay, you win. You know everyone in the school."

A twinkle in his hazelnut eyes, Roman gave Virgil an amused stare and smiled. "No..." he sighed. "I only know the ones worth knowing."

At that, Virgil couldn't help but overheat. He looked away and grumbled, "Whatever, Count Drama-cula."

Heading out of the halls and into the outside, Roman merely laughed. "You're just mad because I remember the first time I ever saw you and you don't know when you saw me."

A competitive look found itself on Virgil's face as his mouth twisted to a smirk and his eyebrows scrunched up at the challenge. "Second day of freshman year, you were laughing about some stupid joke about why the chicken crossed the road under a tree with four other people. You had on red earbuds and the music was so loud, I could hear a steady beat of _The Rainforest Rap_ from the bench I sat on, maybe ten feet away."

It was Roman's turn to widen his eyes. Just as soon as they widened, they narrowed as he let a smile cross his face, truly genuine. "Well played," Roman praised, leading the boy in the all-too-big jacket around a streetcurb opposite of where Virgil walked home to.

"Hey, Ro, where are we heading?" Virgil anxiously asked, eyes scanning around the modest homes on both sides of the quiet street. 

"A distraction," Roman briefly answered. 

The darkly dressed boy couldn't help but snort. "Okay, you do realize how murder-y that sounds, right?"

"Oh, relax, Prince Alarming, I don't intend on harming a hair on your cute face you little shadowling you."

"Call me cute one more time and I think I might murder you."

"Aww, you're cute when you're mad."

"Keep it up and I'm about to get real adorable."

That got a laugh from the prince. Virgil melted at the sound, too distracted to notice Roman stop in his tracks and accidentally slam into his friend with a muffled "Oof."

"What the hell?" Virgil cursed quietly, dusting himself off from the collision of himself on Roman. 

Roman offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. Virgil dismissed the apology with an equally sheepish grin.

Composing himself, Roman cleared his throat and clasped his hands together, gesturing for Virgil to head up the driveway of a modest stucco home. "Well," Roman announced, "we're here! My house."

Huh. His house.

Almost immediately, Virgil felt anxiety well up inside him. He found himself recalling what Roman had said earlier in performing arts class. _"If your heart starts pumping more than it already is because of your anxieties, I might have to rush you to the hospital for a heart attack, Knight,"_ Roman had joked. 

A vague voice in his quite imaginative mind had declared, _Heart attack. Heart attack, heart attack, heart attack_. Yup, his heart was definitely beating all too hard in his chest. Despite that, Virgil took slow steps to the front door, a shaky smile coming across his features.

Roman seemed to have noticed the small and hesitant steps Virgil took. Not wanting to call much attention to the obviously anxious boy, Roman lightly joked, "Geez, it's okay, my family won't rip your arm out or anything, Slim Shady"

"Your family's in there," Virgil whispered in a squeak. He let out a small, hysterical laugh. "Of course your family's in there."

Roman turned the knob of his door open to reveal a space, considerably large but smaller than the mansion Virgil was used to. With the opening of the dark red door came the swift aroma of what smelled like spaghetti sauce being cooked. Virgil's mouth instantly watered at the pleasant attack on his nose.

"Oh my god...." Virgil sighed, taking a long whiff of the smell.

Roman laughed, throwing his backpack on a nearby couch and beckoning Virgil to do the same. Once Virgil had set his belongings on the couch and took off his jacket in favor of the warm house, Roman lead Virgil to the kitchen where the aroma of the sauce intensified.

"Papa, I'm hooome," Roman called out, cupping his hands to his mouth despite the fact that the person he was calling out to was a mere three yards away.

The familiar face of his highness Thomas turned from the pot over a stove. At the sight of his son, Thomas beamed, and at the sight of Virgil, the crack of sunshine magified to a crater of smiles. Thomas bowed down.

"Oh, my prince had brought home a foreigner from a land far away," Thomas teased, lowering the heat of the stove to walk up to Roman and in case him in a hug. Virgil stood to the side, smiling shyly.

Roman rolled his eyes at his father's antics. "Are you ever going to let me live my prince phase down?" He grumbled. "I was, like, six years old, papa."

"You still own the little prince suit from twelve years ago," Thomas reasoned, grinning as he crossed his arms. "No matter how much you insist on being over the prince phase, you will never grow out of it."

"This is my curse for being a Prince."

"Blame your dad for agreeing that my last name should be yours."

"Roman Wake sounds like a pretty cool guy."

From the sidelines of the kitchen, Virgil awkwardly watched the exchange between father and son, finally understanding how Roman must have felt in Virgil's home. Growing bored of just watching the conversation, he slowly inched towards the pot which held the concoction of good smells, took a small spoon from a container, and took out a small sample of sauce, blowing on it before tasting it.

The sauce tasted  _magnificent,_ yet something was missing. He tasted some more, and after a minute, the inner chef his dad had taught him to embrace sparked open. 

Turning back to the father and son who now stayed quiet watching his movements, Virgil stated, "The sauce is good, but it needs a little bit more parsley, basil, and salt. Parsley flavors it up, basil will make it a bit minty but add on to the flavor, and the salt balances everything out. You can add pepper flakes if you want, but my dads don't like spice and never experimented with spice that much, so I wouldn't really know."

Thomas looked at him curiously. "Future chef?"

Virgil shook his head. "Dad's a chef, he probably likes the kitchen more than his husband, so he teaches me how to cook every once in a while."

"Lucky. I barely learned how to cook two months ago."

Roman nodded. "We lived off of pizza and my dad's cooking for, like, years," he confirmed. "Papa didn't want to learn because he didn't want to have to stop watching The Office."

"I can confirm that," a new voice from the doorway laughed.

Virgil turned to find the other Mr. Prince leaning on the doorway, sun glasses perched atop caramel curls. Thomas's husband wore a monochrome colored pair of pajama pants and an overly baggy band shirt. Virgil decided he liked his style.

The new character walked towards Thomas, pausing to ruffle up Roman's hair and smile at Virgil. Once reaching his spouse, Remy gave Thomas a quick peck on the cheeks. The family's interaction reminded Virgil of his own fathers.

Remy turned back to Virgil and nodded in greeting while Thomas turned back to finish his cooking, taking Virgil's recommendations. Roman sat atop a kitchen counter.

"We didn't get much of an introduction to each other before, huh, babes?" Remy ventured. Something about the older man's vibe reminded Virgil of himself, but... well, with more confidence.

Virgil let out an awkward smile. "Yeah.... Sorry about my dad, by the way. He's over-protective, to say the least." Remembering his manners, Virgil added, "Mr. Prince."

Said Mr. Prince cracked a smile at that. "Thomas's dad is Mr. Prince," he pointed out, nodding at his husband's direction. "If anything, I'm Mr. Wake, Remy Wake,  but that's too formal for this girl. Call me anything else outside of formalities. It gives me flashbacks to college." Remy shuddered.

Virgil let out a nervous laugh. He didn't mention how college was next year's destination to the older man, opting to stay silent. From the counter, Roman sat, a hanging out of his mouth and gesturing with his hands to gesture he was about to tell a story.

"Dad got a coffee addiction at college," he snorted. "Papa met him at a Starbucks when the guy with sunglasses indoors almost passed out from his seventh large cup of coffee."

From the stove, Thomas laughed softly. "And from that day on, I forced this stupid asshole to only drink green tea. Less caffeine, just as much satisfaction."

"Perfect coffee shop au, am I right?" Remy asked. 

"Yeah, very fanfiction material," Virgil agreed.

"Which ship, though?"

"Bubblegum and Marceline."

"Damn, nice pairing." Remy glanced at him and grinned.

Virgil grinned back. "Can't go wrong with a lesbian ship."

From his back pocket, Virgil's phone buzzed to inform him of a notification. Excusing himself from the conversation, Virgil opened the text message that popped up in his notification bar.

_**4:37 PM** _

_**Patdad:** Virge!! Your dad and I aren't going to be home until early tomorrow :/ You gonna be okay, shadowling??_

Virgil let out a sigh. Of course they wouldn't be coming home tonight.

**_4:39 PM_ **

_**Virge of freaking out:**  Yeah. Why aren't you gonna be home tonight?_

**_4:41 PM_ **

_**Patdad:** Sorry, kiddo, but i got called to an emergency meeting, and after that i have to prepare manage the kitchens and all that old people work D: _

_**Patdad:** And your dad got called to a surgery somewhere for someone. He thinks the surgery is gonna take suuuuuper long :( You know what to do? The credit card numbers, the passwords and emergency phone numbers??? _

Virgil tried to keep the frown on his face away. 

_**4:43 PM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** yep._

_**4:46 PM** _

_**Patdad:** I'll bring back something from work for you ^--^ _

_**4:48 PM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** yeah ok thanks_

His phone buzzed a few more times after that, but by then, Virgil had shoved the phone deep in his pocket in silent anger and disappointment. The frown he had previously been fighting away had forced itself on Virgil's face, turning his expression in an odd mix of anger and sadness.

Roman, from the counter, offered him a pasta noodle. "You okay?"

Virgil accepted the noodle, slightly relieved. "Yeah," he breathed.

Hopping down from the counter and leading Virgil away from the kitchen and into the living room, Roman shrugged. "If you say so. But... my job here is to distract you, not to make you sad. You up for binging the entirety of Camp Camp, Charlie Frown?"

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m planning to end the story somewhere before December if I can, and since I’ve daydreamed the ending of this story too many times and I don’t plan anything, I have so many endings I could settle on. I’m indicisive hnnngggg
> 
> If I can make up my mind and finish before December, it’ll be easier for me and you because school finals are coming up soon and I’ll be stuck with A L O T of work and studying and a long hiatus for updates if I get caught up with that. And next to that, holidays will be coming up so I’d much rather finish the story instead of actually pausing the story until January.
> 
> Until then, the saga of Virgil’s rainbow filled life will continue. More to come, loves!!
> 
> -alex
> 
> (Ps, sorry for the spelling mistakes if you spot any on this chapter. I don’t really edit)


	13. Mornings And Matchings

_**2:33 AM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** You ever realized how the misunderstanding that caused Romeo and Juliet's death would have been easily prevented if it took place in modern times and the messenger could have just shot Romeo a text. Like, "lmao hey romcom, jules is bout to commit suicide but it's ok bcaus it's staged haha dont kill urself or anything k bro g'night m8" "lol kay"_

_**2:35 AM** _

_**Roman Noodles:**...Virgil, it is 2 am_

_**Virge of freaking out:** Oh shit really?? Heck man go to sleep! Wyd talking to me?? Wtf Roman you need to take better care of yourself. the hell. you kids with your technology these days damn. Fucken sleep_

_**2:36 AM** _

_**Roman Noodles:** oh my GOD r u fucking kidding me_

_**2:37 AM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** /your health is not a joke romano/_

_**Roman Noodles:** omg yOU TEXTED ME???_

Virgil let out a howl of laughter, the sound echoing around the spacious and dimly lit room, lit only by the paused TV screen of some stupid vine compilation he was currently watching. Virgil let the laughs flow through freely until he could finally type without shaking from amusement.

**2:40 AM**

**Virge of freaking out:** haha yeah I know sorry lmao. Go back to sleep you nerd. sorry for waking you

Virgil put his phone down, turning his attention back to the flatscreen TV once again while he sipped from a bottle of soda. In a minute, his phone buzzed with a notification once more.

**_2:41 AM_ **

_**Roman Noodles** : What? You're telling me to get back to sleep? Dude, what about you??? Go? To??? Sleep????? What the hell???? It's a school day???_

Virgil rolled his eyes, amused. 

_**2:42 AM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** Yeah yeah yeah, sleep is important blah blah blah_

_**Roman Noodles:** Yes! Yes it is!_

_**Virge of freaking out:** Well it isn't fun._

_**2:43 AM** _

_**Roman Noodles:** I cannot believe you... your dad is a literal doctor wtf_

Virgil let out a snort. The irony really was surprising, he guessed. Virgil Knight, the son of the ever-so-great surgeon Logan Knight, not taking care of himself. He typed up an answer.

_**Virge of freaking out:** teenage rebellion, babey_

_**2:44 AM** _

_**Roman Noodles:** How about motivation? A stage scene? You are the fair Juliet, and after a long days work of doing absolutely nothing, you go to your bed and fall. The fuck. Asleep._

Another howl of laughter wracked his body at the ending statement as he tried to type in a snarky reply.

_**2:45 AM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** Juliet: [tries and fails to sleep]_

_**2:46 AM** _

_**Roman Noodles:** You are breathtakingly unbelievable. I'm going to sleep, and you should too. Goodnight, fair Jules._

A rosy blush illuminated by the light of the phone screen held by pale hands which hurried to type out a reply.

_**Virge of freaking out:** Night, romcom_

Virgil set his phone down, once again turning his attention to a vine playing on the TV. The exhaustion of yesterday took him over, and while his eyelids drooped down, curtains of eyelashes closing his eyes, he slid to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Virgil Knight was awoken by the smell of something godly in his kitchen. Somewhere, something sizzles tantalizingly in a frying pan while a sweet concoction of another bubbled, letting out an aroma of ambrosia fill around the house.

Blinking the sleep away, Virgil groaned and sat up. Once fully in his right, awake mind, the young emo found himself in the living room, the same spot he spent earlier texting Roman. Drowsily sitting up, Virgil rubbed his eyes. The sound of piano keys playing in the next room made him freeze.

Standing up and making his way to the doorway, he found the sounds of perfectly pressed piano keys humoring his ears more and more, hitting all the perfect notes. It was obvious to find who was playing.

"You're finally awake," Logan quietly chuckled, voice soft and fatherly.

Virgil let out a breath in disbelief. "And you're home?" He responded with a confused and crooked grin. 

His father, still in sweatpants and a baggy shirt despite having to have left for work at least two hours ago, let out a laugh. "Virgil, despite the fact that I am barely home most of the time, this is still my house," Logan joked, standing up and walking to greet his son. "You do realize that, right?"

Virgil rolled his eyes, defeatedly accepting the annoying ruffle of his hair from his father. "Smartass," he snorted. 

Logan faked an offended expression. "You will  _not_ curse in my house, you little dipshit!" They shared a laugh and an eyeroll respectively. "Your _mother's_ in the kitchen cooking you breakfast."

The distant and softspoken voice belonging to Patton Knight screamed out, "You're the mother in this relationship!" Logan rolled his brilliant blue eyes. 

The teen narrowed his eyes, squinting up at his father and crossing his arms. "What's going on...?" Virgil questioned, following his casually dressed father into the dining room. 

Logan glanced back at his son, a sparkle in his already knowing eyes. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You and dad are never home unless it's a weekend. And even then you're not  _there._ "

"Time is an illusion."

Surprised by the uncharacteristic-like reply, a bubble of laughter made its way out of the Knight child, laughter jolting his shoulders up and down. Father and son made it inside the large kitchen, finding Patton Knight setting up what looked to be a too-beautiful-to-eat breakfast. Logan shook his head, walking to his husband only to share a kiss with the chef.

"You said you were making  _pancakes,_ Patton," Logan scolded lightly, tone joking and head shaking in disbelief.

Patton's face broke into a sheepish grin. "I  _was,_ swearsies, but then I checked the cupboards and fridge and there wasn't any flour, so I couldn't make pancakes, and--"

"Instead you made a full-course meal?" Logan questioned.

A blush broke through Patton's angelic features, covering freckles with a pink glow. He continued to smile sheepishly. "I'm a chef!" Patton protested. "You can't expect me to make something so simple." Patton turned to his son, still in front of the doorway watching the exchange rather amused, and beamed. "And my son deserves something special."

Virgil laughed. "Hey, I'm not getting caught up in this," Virgil stated, hands going up in surrender before walking towards his dad and engulfing him in a hug and separating. Virgil turned to Logan and smirked. "But Patdad's right, I _do_ deserve something special."

Logan stuck his tongue out. Virgil copied the gesture. Logan strategically shot up the bird at his son as Patton turned around. Virgil let out an exaggerated and joking gasp. "Patdad, mom stuck his middle finger up!"

Patton turned around to glare at his husband. Logan's head turned to Virgil, mouthing, "Betrayal."

Virgil laughed. "I'm just an _innocent_ little boy, you can't take away my innocence with your  _mean_ gestures." Logan merely rolled his eyes while Virgil sat on one of the breakfast bar chairs. "No, but really, why aren't you both at work?"

"Well, we're gonna need an extra day to plan Friday night, sport," Patton chippered, serving a plate of well-decorated breakfast in front of the suspicious teen.

A mouth full of food already in his mouth, Virgil questioned, "Why? What happens Friday night?"

Logan took up the chair next to Virgil and smiled softly. "Little angel, remember those small dinner parties we always get invited to with those families?"

"Uh, duh," Virgil answered, gesturing with a spoon. "Dad gets invitations all the time. Well, you do, too, but not nearly as much as dad."

Logan stared at Virgil with a low-key affronted face, expression slightly deadpan. Virgil couldn't help but giggle at the reaction. "Moving on, we're hosting one on Friday night with a family of three."

"Which family?"

His fathers shared knowing looks, eyes sparkling as they glanced at each other before returning their blue eyed gazes back on their son. Logan sipped a glass of water. "The Princes."

* * *

The teen by the name of Roman Prince dropped his backpack on the desk next to Virgil's and scanned the darkly dressed boy next to him. Virgil met his gaze.

"You look like shit," Virgil stated, eyes completely deadpan and hand rested on two unopened boxes in front of him.

Roman grunted, too exhausted to even form a proper offended face. "Thanks, I had football practice and some asshole woke me up at two in the morning to spurt Shakespeare."

Virgil chuckled under his breath before muttering out an insincere, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Roman assured, eyeing the boxes. "What are those?"

Virgil lightly patted the boxes. "Roman,oh honey, have you forgotten what boxes are?"

Roman glared lightly at Virgil. "I know that, you dumbass, I want to know what's inside."

"Well, if you must know, they're our costumes." 

The boys let an excited grin spread on their faces, eyes glimmering. A small voice in Virgil's head sighed.  _He'll look so great in the prince costume...._  The gay voice sighed, only to be shushed by the second voice.

 _He already likes someone else!_ The second voice pressed.  _You're setting yourself up for heartbreak!_

 _Am not!_ The voice glared.  _Besides, one can imagine._

_Imagine what?!_

_Well, maaaaaybe, we're the person he likes! Huh? Ever thought about that?! Oh, shit.... Hey, maybe he likes us?_

_...nah._

"Earth to Virgil? Hello, hello, hello?" 

Virgil snapped out of the conversation he'd invented in his head and turned his attention to the boy in the letterman jacket next to him. "Huh? What?"

Roman's lips pressed to a smile as he rolled brilliant brown eyes. "I said, open the boxes up, you doofus. My eyes are itching to see them."

Not wanting to waste any more class time, Virgil ripped open the tape with scissors and handed Roman a box labeled  _Red-gold-white_ as he opened his own box labeled  _Black-violet-grey._

Roman pulled the costume out of the box, eyes glazed with wonderment at the splendid design. "Oh my god."

Next to him, Virgil pulled his own beautifully tailored costume out. His eyes widened. "Oh. My. God."

Roman looked over, caught sight of Virgil's costume, and burst into laughter. Virgil glared at him, but the glare wasn't as strong matched with pretty pink cheeks and a look of despair. Virgil returned to the costume he held up. 

"Why don't I ever look at the pictures before buying?" He questioned himself.

"They didn't lie," Roman joked. "It really is matching."

Roman teasingly took Virgil's hand as Virgil glared up at him. "I mean, a prince must have a princess."

Virgil's glare intensified. "When they said  _matching,_ I didn't think matching _princess_   _dress!_ "

Roman laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shoves this at you* Take it. Just... take it.
> 
> (And also, I really like my outline for the next chapter but let me just say: you might or might not like it just as much)
> 
> -alex


	14. A Mess Of Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> W h o a   
> H e l l o t h e r e

Way back in the wild years of Will Milkshakes, civility in the theater wasn't as controlled as it is in modern times. Today, if you'd thrown an apple at the head of someone performing a role in a play because you didn't like it, you'd most likely be dragged out of the theater by security and find yourself facing a possible lawsuit for harrasment, but about five hundred years ago, screaming and throwing a hissy fit in the theater wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

People would throw trash onstage if they didn't like the performance just as they would roses if they did. The audience would scream and boo the actors almost as much as they clapped and whistled for them. Point is: 1500-1600s theater audiences were hard judges. One wrong move and bam! A rotten tomato be gifted to your production rather harshly and physically.

But of course, times have changed and mannerisms during show performances have definitely improved. If people didn't like your performance on that stage, all they'd be able to do would be glare at you. They couldn't scream profanities or throw garbage without facing the wrath of lawyers.

So... why was Virgil so afraid? There was nothing the crowd could do if they didn't like him! Hell, the crowd was hardly even a big one, just his class of rowdy... judgemental... and loud classmates.

Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat and sat on one of the chairs set out for the class on the school theater, a neatly folded dress on his lap.

The edgy teen had barely gotten any sleep last night, which isn't really surprising, but the pre-stage panic he'd been holding inside him for so long was still there.

He tried to calm himself down as he waited. Calculating the time before death he'd have left, Virgil found that there'd be at least ten or so performances delivered by his classmates before he and Roman would be up. Until then, he just had to find a way to calm himself down, that's all.

 _Easy peasy, lemon squeasy,_ The reassuring voice in his mind promised.

 _Difficult difficult, lemon difficult!_ Another voice begged to differ.

Now, the young Knight didn't want to say that he depended on the company of the dashing Prince for confidence, but next to him sat Roman, and the occasional concerned looks and reassuring smiles the Prince would give him sure did help him in his time of internal panic.

After Ms. Dare had finished setting up a tripod to capture the teens' performances, the red curtain seperating performance from reality opened, revealing two girls in matching tuxedos and bright smiles.

"Two high-class families both alike in dignity," the first girl recited, eyes twinkling with confidence. 

"In the beautiful Verona, where we lay our scene," the second continued, crooked grin flashing at the small company of students below the stage.

"From an ancient family feud begins a new mutiny."

 _"_ And spilled innocent blood makes innocent hands unclean."

"Two children are conceived by the family foes..."

"...which brings forward two star-crossed lovers who take their life."

"Their unfortunate deaths then overthrows."

"Their parents' family strife."

"The events of this story lead to inevitable death by love."

"And the continued story of their parents' rage."

"Which not even their children's actions could not remove."

"Two hours worth of their story you'll now witness from our stage."

"And if your patient ears will care to attend."

"What we've missed in this scene, the play might mend."

And with that, the curtains momentarily closed to allow for the next students to get in costume quickly and take their place onstage. Virgil could only try to focus on the auditorium stage and try to slow his heartbeat and steady his breathing before the inevitable reveal of the final performance of his project with Roman.

Onstage, the hazy scene in which the Montagues have a dispute with the Capulets is played by a large group of people. The scene should have taken more than a few minutes at the very least, but with his mind unfocused on everything except the possibility of failure or embarrassment, the scenes sped through like a harpoon piercing the water.

The scenes flipped through in a nauseating speed, coming from the scene with the illiterate messenger to the dispute with Tybalt.

Before Virgil, red curtains closed and opened up once more to show a handsome Romeo in a black modern tux cross the stage to meet his beautiful Juliet. This was the ballroom scene.

The speed of Virgil's thoughts quickened as if they weren't already fast enough. Before he knew it, the ballroom scene had ended in a blur, and everything after that was just hell to try to recall. 

The scenes were speeding by way too fast for Virgil's comprehension, and the curtains were closing and opening too many times. The people around him were whispering too loud, and the shifting in their seats annoyed Virgil way too much, and time was deliberately trying to fuck with him— 

"Roman Prince and Virgil Knight, performing act two, scene two, page one of Romeo and Juliet," Ms. Dare's voice cut through the loud, incomprehensible chatter of the students.

Upon hearing Roman's name, the class began to clap. 

 _Great,_ Virgil thought, annoyed.  _Mr. Popularity's my partner. All the more eyes focused on us._

"Boys, get changed into your costumes. Quickly, quickly."

Roman stood, flashing the crowd of students a flamboyant smile before walking himself behind the school stage and into the boys dressing room. Virgil followed him, walking slowly as if the seconds he'd waste walking instead of changing would delay the performance. Roman entered a private stall and Virgil entered another.

The room was quiet except for the shifting of their clothes. The sound of fabric against fabric occupied the silence while they both changed. Virgil, taking his time to procrastinate, heard the click and creak of the opening of a stall Roman seemed to exit from.

"Hey, Virge, I'm gonna head to the stage, okay?" Roman's voice echoed around the dressing room. "Head out when you're ready and I'll give Ms. Dare the okay."

"Y-Yeah, okay," Virgil responded. "Thanks."

Virgil could  _feel_ the guy outside the stall smile. "Not a problem, Virge. It's just a Prince's duty."

And with a click and a thump of the dressing room door closing, Roman was gone. Virgil stared at the folded dress. Biting his lower lip anxiously, Virgil undressed to his boxers and shimmied his body into the tight-fitting piece of clothing. He turned and faced the stall mirror.

His reflection greeted him. He examined it cautiously, like the mirror would shatter at any given moment. 

The dress was, as promised, black, purple, and grey, but Virgil didnt imagine it to be like this. Well, Virgil didnt even imagine the dress to be a dress, so he guessed he could blame that one on the blatant stupidity and dumbassery he found in himself when ordering the costumes.

Nevertheless, he didn't exactly  _hate_ how the dress looked. 

It was black, but not the solid black of the band posters which hung on the music room of his mansion. More like an uncertain black, like a soft and starless night sky, shrouded with mystery but laced with comfort. The type of black that brought you back to when you didn't know how to use makeup so you just smudged eyeliner under your eyes. It was a kitten seekinng comfort in a starless night type of black.

Along the front and back skirt of the dress were intelligently placed pleats. Unlike the puffy skirt of his dress, the waist and up was narrow and tight, but made with comfortable material which allowed Virgil to breathe and move comfortably. Thin, intricately designed silvery patterns snaked elegantly down the waist, looking almost like controlled lightning. The hem of the sleeves were purple lace, rimmed with silver. 

Virgil admired himself in the mirror for a while, mouth agape. He didn't know what to feel, but when the smile wormed itself on his face, Virgil didn't try to stop it. Instead, Virgil made his way out of the dressing rooms, trying to keep his head up as he walked onstage, dimly lit and still covered by red curtains.

Once there, Virgil caught sight of Roman. The Roman he projected into the costume using his imagination was nowhere near as beautiful as Roman physically in it. Trying to kill the blush, Virgil tapped Roman's shoulder. Roman jumped uncharacteristically. The usually overconfident boy had a look of nervousness plastered on his features before being masked in an uncertain smile.

If you knew the signs, you'd know what to be looking for. Virgil knew the signs. Roman's hand shook slightly, and the young Prince balanced on the balls of his feet. Although his mouth was pulled to a smile, he lacked the wrinkles on the sides of his face which should have been present if the smile was genuine.

Pre-stage fright.

Virgil studied Roman once more. He took a deep breath. "When I was young, my dad Patton only played Taylor Swift songs, so up until I was nine, I thought all songs in the world were sung by Taylor Swift, choreographed by Taylor Swift, and written by Taylor Swift."

Roman froze for a second before bursting into quiet laughter, hushed but unrestrained. Virgil beamed.

Ms. Dare's face popped out from the curtains. She glanced Virgil up and down. "Nice dress," she praised. Virgil's face reddened. "You boys ready?"

Roman put his thumbs up. Virgil nodded shyly.

Ms. Dare beamed. "Great. Get in your places. Good luck."

With those words, she popped her head out of the stage. Quickly, Roman took Virgil's hand, briefly squeezed it, and let go, leaving Virgil to hastily make his way up the stairs to the stage's balcony, hiding in the shadows and waiting to reveal himself when the script called for it.

The curtains opened, and the dull thumping of Virgil's heart was drowned out by the eerie silence in his ears. It was loud, but it was quiet. And Roman began to speak, his melodic voice echoing around the room.

With his voice traveling around the cavernous stage and his head held low for dramatic effect, Romeo began from where the last group left off. "He jokes at scars even though he's never been cut."

Julius walked closer to the light, letting himself be seen by Romeo and the audience. He spared a short glance to the crowd and his eyes met the dazzled looks of the students, all looking up at him. Julius returned his look to nowhere in particular above him.

Below him, Romeo looked up to see his Julius, a hand raising to cover his eyes from the bright light. "What's the light from the balcony!" Romeo exclaimed. "It's coming from the East, and Vir— Julius is the sun." Virgil's eyebrows scrunched up. Did Roman mess up his lines? Before he could dwell on it any more, Roman had continued. "Rise, beautiful sun, and kill the jealous moon. The moon is sick with grief because he knows that you are more beautiful than he.

"Don't remain his servant because he is envious. His virginity makes him look pale and green. Only idiots hold on to their virginity. Let yours go." Romeo heaved a sigh, and it almost seemed so real, Virgil momentarily lost focus. "Oh, there you are, there is my love. I wish... he knew how much I loved him. He's talking, but he's not speaking. His eyes are speaking, and I would answer them, but they aren't talking to me.

"Oh, his eyes! Two of the brightest stars in the heavens have gone off to do some business and have asked his eyes to twinkle in their place." Romeo chuckled quietly to himself. "But what if the skies are his eyes and the stars are his head? His cheeks would outshine the stars like the sun outshines a lamp. If his eyes shone in the night sky, then birds would sing, believing it was daytime." Julius rested his head on his hand as the script burned into his mind had commanded. "Look how he rests his head in his hands. I wish I were that glove."

Julius sighed in the balcony and looked sadly at where the sky would be, not noticing his Romeo below him. Quiet enough for it to be dramatic while still being able to be heard by the audience, Julius breathed, "Oh my...."

"He speaks!" Romeo cried out to himself. "Oh, speak again, bright angel. You are as glorious as an angel tonight. You shine above me like a winged messenger from heaven who makes mortals look up at the sky to stare at you in the clouds _._ "

Julius fiddled with his hands for awhile before melodically chanting to himself, "Oh, Romeo; Oh, Romeo, why must you have to be Romeo? Forget your father and change your name, or just say you love me and I'll stop being a Capulet...."

"Should I listen more or should I speak now?"

"Your name is my enemy— if you stop being a Montague, you'll still be yourself. What's a Montague, anyway? It isn't any part of a man! Oh, be some other name! What's in a name? The thing we call a rose would smell just as sweet if it was called by any other name. Romeo would be just as perfect if he wasn't called Romeo. Romeo, lose your name. Lose your name and take me instead." 

Romeo unveiled himself from the shadow of Julius's balcony, speaking now to Julius directly. He opened his arms, offering himself to the man atop the balcony. "I trust your words!" He stated. "Call me your love and I'll choose a new name! Call me your love and I won't be Romeo again!"

Julius, shocked at the stranger who'd revealed himself, dropped her gaze to the man below her. "Who are you?" He demanded forcefully. "Why do you listen to my private thoughts?"

Romeo shrugged, a small, uncertain smirk forming on the side of his lips as he answered, "I don't know what to call myself by a name. I hate my name because it is your enemy. If I have it written down, I'd tear the paper up!"

Julius squinted at the man. "I have not heard more than a hundred words from you, but I recognize your voice. Are you not Romeo? And aren't you a Montague?"

Romeo shrugged again. "I am not either if you don't want me to be."

"How did you get here and why did you come? The orchard walls are high, and my relatives will kill you if they find you here!" Virgil manipulated Julius's words to sound frantic. 

"I flew over the orchard walls with love's wings," Romeo answered smoothly. "The walls may be high, but there's nothing that can stop a man in love. By that same reasoning, I can say that your relatives are no obstacle to me."

Romeo beamed at Julius, gesturing grandly as his teeth flashed in a bright smile. Julius couldn't help but smile along, even though his smile was thin and barely visible from those below.

"If they see you, they'll kill you," Julius warned.

Romeo continued to smile that shit-eating grin, and Julius hated how he loved that smile. Swiftly, Romeo replied, "One angry look from you would hurt me more than twenty of your relatives with weapons. All you need to do is smile at me and I'm invincible against them."

Julius sighed longingly. Virgil peeked through the sigh. As Julius longed for his Romeo, Virgil pined for Roman just as much, if not more. Nonetheless, the show must go on. "I'd do anything to keep them from finding you."

"The darkness will hide me from them," Romeo assured. "And if you don’t love me, let them find me here. I’d rather they killed me than have to live without your love"

"Who told you how to get below my bedroom?"

Romeo smiled wide, something secretive in the twinkle he held in his eyes. For a moment, the world stopped between Romeo and Julius, Roman and Virgil. Then a breath later and the moment was gone, replaced by a grand gesture of Roman's hand as he stared up at Virgil in that balcony, the mysterious look in his eyes disappearing to shift into a secret-sharing sort of sparkle. 

Roman opened his mouth, and spoke, a hint of nervousness visible through his words, barely noticeable. "Love showed me the way—the same thing that made me look for you in the first place. Love told me what to do, and I let love borrow my eyes. I’m not a sailor, but if you were across the farthest sea, I would risk everything to gain you..." Roman breathed in, shifting his figure ever so slightly to turn away from the crowd discreetly. Quiet only so Virgil could hear him, Roman whispered, "I'd risk everything to gain you, Virgil."

Virgil's cheeks flared red at the words, and he thanked the dim lighting of the balcony for the small cover. He took time to process the sudden confession, and suddenly, the world was frozen again. There was only him, Roman, and the balcony. There was only the lines from the script he'd practiced so many times, the words had been engraved into his head. He broke off into stutters and muffled panic. His face was on fire and his heart threatened to jump out of his chest. 

It was the silent whispers of the crowd at Virgil's prolonged silence snapped Virgil out of his freeze. Clearing his throat and searching his mind for the script, Virgil continued with less elegance, "I, uhm, uh... Ro—" he definitely meant Romeo "—you can't see my face because of the shadows, but if you, uh, were able to, you'd see my furious blush from the things you've heard me say tonight.

"I'd deny everything I've confessed tonight in the name of good manners, but forget about good manners. Do... Do you love me?" 

Virgil glared pleadingly at Roman below, a shred of his mind hoping that this wasn't just some cruel prank, that this wasn't a fool's game. "You— you might say yes, and I'll believe you, but you might be lying. Romeo, if you'll say you love me, then let your words be true."

Virgil frowned, keeping his eyes away from Roman's, a voice in his mind sorrowfully shouting,  _It's a prank, it's a prank, it's a cruel joke, it's a prank! Why'd he say that? Is this a joke to him? Did he mean it? No, of course he didn't! This is a prank, this is a prank!!_

Fighting back tears, Virgil let the words from his script flow from his mouth and added, "In truth, handsome Montague, I like you too much, so you might t-think my behavior is crazy, but I'll prove myself better than the others you've courted. And— and if you think I'm lying, you've already witnessed me confess my love to you before I knew you were here, so I don't know what to tell you."

Sparing a glance back to Roman, Virgil met eyes with the Prince, staring at him sternly yet kindly. Taking time to pause, Roman began, "Sir, I swear by the moon which paints the top of fruit trees silver—"

"D-Don't swear by the moon," Virgil interrupted, stutters slightly noticeable as his mind processed what had happened. It was a joke, it was a prank, please don't let it be a joke— "The moon is inconsistent and ever changing. I... don't want you to turn inconsistent too."

Roman's eyes stared up at him, truthful and sincere. "Then what do I swear by?" He asked.

"Don't swear at all," Virgil answered, still torn between laughing and crying. "But if you must... swear by yourself. You, who I worship like a god, and then I'll believe you."

"If my heart's dear love—"

"Stop. Don't swear. You bring me joy, but exchanging promises tonight is too sudden. This is too quick, we haven't done any thinking. Good—goodnight, my love. I hope you feel the same sweet feeling I do in my heart."

"Will you leave me so unsatisfied?" The actor recited.

"What satisfaction could I possibly offer tonight?" Virgil questioned.

His partner shrugged. "I'd be satisfied if we offered each other true promises of love."

"I pledged my love to you before you asked. But I wish I could take it back only so I can give it to you again...."

Roman nodded as their project came to a close. Virgil walked down the stairs of the balcony, his body stiff. He stood next to Roman, but not as close as he did before. The audience clapped for Virgil and Roman, and Ms. Dare said something about continuing on Monday. Distantly, the dismissal bell rang and students filed out of the school theater, but everything was a blur. Virgil's palms were sweaty and he stood a cautious few steps away from Roman, his emotions a mess.

The curtains came to a close, and the second they did, Virgil bolted out of the stage, the skirt of his dress flowing annoyingly around him. He headed for the boys dressing room, and he didn't know what suddenly prompted him to run, but all he knew was he had to  _get out of there._

Unfortunately for him, Roman was a football player, which meant he was fast. Roman had caught up to his in almost no time at all, hand firmly grasping Virgil's wrist.

"Let go!" Virgil growled, tears rimming his eyes involuntarily. 

Roman looked at him like a dejected puppy, letting go of Virgil's hands like he was told, and just as the Prince did, Virgil instantly regretted his words. However, he made no move to apologize, only running faster, quickly changing into his clothes, and running back out, not stopping until he was out the school and coughing excessively. 

Thoughts plagued his mind as he half-jogged half-walked home.  _Did Roman mean it? Was it part of the play? Was it some stupid prank?_

A stupid mix of hurt, anger, and hope bubbled inside him. Feelings warred in the battleship that was his heart, exhausting him more than necessary until he was just miserably walking along his street, making his way to his home.

Virgil entered the home, and the smell of food and the humming of his papa Patton cooking reminded him: Dinner would be shared tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) hAh "this will end before December" I said!! Lmao this will probably end in the first week of December lol I suck at this scheduling thing 
> 
> 2) did y'all notice the narration switching from "Virgil" to "Julius" and "Roman" to "Romeo?" I'm so clever aren't i!! Haha, but seriously, I'm kinda proud of that little piece of narraration there, but I think??? It gets confusing??? It's meant to be like a way to discern what's happening onstage. Like, "Oh, that's the stage persona" and "Oh that's Virgil."
> 
> 3) I've been writing Romeo and Julius for too long, I think I'm getting attached to their stage personas. Catch me writing some gay Romeo and Juliet fanfic lol
> 
> 4) that ending amiright
> 
> -alex out!


	15. Three Princes, Three Knights, and a Whole Lotta Feelings

The Scottish play.

It is common theater actor manner to not utter the name of the Scottish play while a production or rehearsal is being performed because it is often associated with bad luck. The Scottish play, to put it simply, is "Macbeth." 

To assume that saying the productions name is bad luck isn't necessarily a far-out assumption. The character Macbeth, in the Shakespearean play, was bombarded with bad luck, and his misfortune seemed to never end. With this in mind, most people associate the title of the Scottish play as evil or bringing bad luck.

It's an unsaid theater rule. When on set of a production, you cannot utter the title of the Scottish play. Uttering the name "Macbeth" is all right, but the title of the play? You might as well have insulted theater itself because that's basically just turning yourself into a snail and asking god to salt you.

Point is, everything has a custom. On baseball, some people tap a sign before going into the diamond for good luck, and before dance performances, it's custom for someone to tell the performer to "break a leg."

Saying "Macbeth" in a theater is like telling someone to "break a leg" and then actually breaking their leg.

Virgil Knight felt like he'd just screamed "Macbeth" in every theater in the world. 

He stood in front of a wall-length mirror, eyeing his reflection. It had been a few hours since the project, and he'd long since discarded of his dress, throwing it in the closet to change into a black button up shirt and dress pants. He stared at his reflections eyes. The reflection stared back at him, deep brown eyes calculating a hidden equation.

"So," the reflection said, eyes judgemental, "what are you gonna do?"

Virgil sighed defeatedly. "Sit still and look pretty?" He answered the reflection uncertainly.

His expression seemed to stare him down, eyes squinting ever so slightly to show distaste. "That's really pathetic of you, Virgil." 

Virgil put his hands on his face, groaning into the pale hands defeatedly, digging  his fingers through his hair and messing his previously neatly combed hair up. "What's even more pathetic is talking to myself," he retorted under his breath. 

With a shrug, the reflection turned back to just him, mirroring his every move. Virgil couldn't decide if he liked what he saw in the mirror anymore, but with a dreading feeling in his stomach, Virgil exited the room and walked down the two flights of stairs.

He'd definitely tried to cancel the dinner plans, but just as he saw his dads over the kitchen excitedly making the dinner food, Virgil couldn't cancel. His fathers just seemed... so ecstatic for this. And besides... this was one dinner, how bad could it possibly go?

So what if the jock he'd fallen for that ultimately broke his heart was the son of the invited family? He bet his life that Roman's parents would be much better behaved. And if anything went wrong, he could just excuse himself! Nothing would go wrong, the young Knight promised himself. Nothing would go wrong. 

_So many things could go wrong!_

_Oh my god, shut your fuck! Let me be positive for once, I will literally stab you!_

Virgil entered the dining room, a fake smile that looked more like a grimace than anything donning his face. His parents were busily setting up the table with plates and foods and decoration.

Patton noticed him watching as the popstar sorted out the foods in the middle of the table. "Hey, kiddo!" The human teddy bear greeted chipperly, eyes glimmering underneath the light hanging above the dining table. "The Princes are arriving soon, can you let them in when the bell rings?"

Virgil bit his lip but he merely swallowed his discomfort, nodded obediently. Patton thanked him happily and continued to place plates around the table, leaving his son to his own time. From the dinner table, Logan shot his son a small smile before returning to organizing plates.

There was only a few minutes before the doorbell rang, echoing around the house like an angelic echo. Yes, the sound was lovely and wonderful, but to Virgil, the sound signaled the arrival of death. The Knight child hesitantly walked down the hallway and opened the front door.

Remy's face greeted him, expression warm yet intimidating, standing tall in a black coat and sunglasses, despite it being night time. Virgil couldn't help but think Remy was currently planning his murder in the nicest way possible. The young edgelord shook that thought off his head, instead forcing himself to put on a convincing smile. Virgil politely offered his hand for a handshake. Remy shook his hand in a firm grip.

"Welcome to the Knight property again, Remy. It's a pleasure to have you here."

With a twinkle behind sunglasses, Remy smiled. "Pleasure's all mine, Young Knight."

Virgil grinned. "Please come in. My dads are in the kitchen down those rooms, make yourself at home. My fathers would be thrilled to meet you. Properly, this time."

Remy offered a laugh under his breath and followed his instructions, moving out of the doorway to reveal the towering figure of Thomas behind him. Thomas smiled from ear to ear.

"Virgil!" Thomas basically squealed. "It's great to see you again!"

Virgil answered just as every rich kid probably would: he offered a sincere smile. "Trust me, Thomas, it's much better to see you."

"Charming one, aren't you?"

Virgil merely laughed. "Its great to see you again, Thomas. My dads are in the kitchen a few rooms out. Feel free to make yourself at home, I'm sure my dads would love to meet you. Remy's out there, too."

Thomas smiled and followed his husband, moving out of the way just as Remy had only to reveal his son. 

Roman stood there, hands shoved inside his coat pockets harshly and rosy cheeks tinted lightly from the dark. As always, the teen looked flawless, but his eyes stayed averted and his jaw stayed locked. An air of discomfort flew around the two teens and a suffocating silence enveloped them.

"Roman," Virgil acknowledged, the jumble of feelings inside him getting confused all over again. His stomach knotted and his heart dropped. Alarms rang around his head unhelpfully.

Eyes unmeeting, Roman nodded almost robotically. "Virgil. Thank you for inviting us, it's a pleasure to be here."

Roman's voice sounded hollow and badly scripted. There were no dramatic remarks or wild hand gestures. Virgil wanted nothing more than to take his hand and ensure protection, but... no, that won't be fair for either of them.

"The pleasure is all mine," Virgil recited dryly, moving out of Roman's way, silently allowing the boy to move past him.

Their shoulders touched as Roman walked towards his father's directions. Virgil followed, ignoring the tingling in his shoulder and trailing farther behind the Prince child. Virgil's anxiety spiked when he saw Roman's shoulders rise and fall as he heaved a sigh, stopping in his tracks. Roman turned to Virgil and opened his mouth.

"Virgil, I—"

"Don't," Virgil interrupted. It sounded harsher than he meant, but Virgil honestly did not want Roman's words to make him cry in his own living room. "It was a stupid. You were stupid. All you need to do tonight is to be polite and then it'll be over. You don't have to apologize." Virgil dropped his gaze to Roman, eyes cold and conflicted. "It was my fault, anyway."

Roman's eyes widened as his body deflated. For a moment, Roman's eyes turned glassy, but Roman blinked the glass away, pausing in place before nodding, putting his lips to a line, and continuing on his way.

The two reached the dining room where four men already stood in, introducing themselves and giving off the warmest of smiles while the visitors thanked and complimented the hosts. Roman and Virgil took seats opposing each other on the large dining table, the four men taking their own places.

Logan flashed Virgil a small smile, mischievous but polite. The surgeon sat next to his husband while the Princes took their places on the opposite side of the dining table, joining their son.

The dinner was otherwise uneventful, but every so often, Virgil glanced up from his plate only to see Roman staring intently at him with an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes. Sadness, Virgil guessed. Or maybe guilt. Whatever it was Virgil ignored it in favor of answering the other visitors.

"So," Thomas started, clapping his hands together cheerily, "highschool's ending for you boys soon. Any plans?"

The theater partners stared at each other before awkwardly blinking and shifting their attention to their plates. Logan as if, sensing Virgil's sudden tensing cleared his throat. The nerd, bless his soul, answered for his son, a soft smile on his face, "Virgil's planned to go to college and major in something artistic, but we've been playing with the idea of him joining the culinary business with Patton." Logan sipped some wine. "We have not figured it out completely just yet, but I believe we are getting there, right, Virgil?"

Virgil blinked and nodded, distracted by the thoughts racing in his mind. "Yeah," he replied distantly. "Right."

The young emo didn't miss Patton's face crinkle into a look of concern. He ignored Patton and continued to play with the food on his plate. Remy took on the conversation.

"Well, Roman's been wanting to go to a performing arts college," Remy mentioned, shrugging. "He's following on Thomas's footsteps. An actor in the making. Tell them, Roman."

Virgil spared a small glance at the theater boy. Roman awkwardly smiled at Logan and Patton, quietly and uncertainly laughing under his breath. "Uh, yeah...." Roman trailed off before snapping back into the conversation. "The stage is where I grew up, it's practically my second home. It's, uh, where I shared my precious memories." Virgil felt Roman's eyes dig into his face, and it took every muscle the younger boy had to not meet the electric gaze. " _And my drama queen attitude, too, as some have said_."

Virgil froze. That was a callout to last week, at the theater. That was a deliberate sentence to reference Virgil's words. Frustration overwhelmed Virgil. He raised his head to stare at Roman directly in the eyes. What did this kid want? He already messed with Virgil, what else did he want? 

Instead of provoking the male, Virgil turned his attention back to his plate. He felt Roman's gaze drop too, and not long after, the adults had distracted themselves with trivial talk once more.

Virgil still felt eyes on him. 

Discreetly, Virgil dug his phone from his pocket, making sure nobody noticed, and tapped on Roman's contact. He typed out his thoughts.

_**8:37 PM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** Is this a joke to you??? _

He raised his gaze to meet Roman's, waiting for Roman's phone to vibrate in his pocket. Roman looked at Virgil before digging his own phone out of his pocket and reading the text. He turned his attention back to Virgil and raised his eyebrow in confusion.

Virgil exhasperatedly typed out another text.

_**8:38 PM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** Jesus Christ, what do you want from me? Is it so hard to just leave me alone?_

Sadness and shock flashed on Roman's face as he began to type out a response.

_**8:40 PM** _

_**Roman Noodles:** I'm sorry_

_**Virge of freaking out:** If you were really sorry, stop staring at me and grow up_

The sadness on Roman's face suddenly was replaced by anger. Something Virgil had said made Roman angry, and Virgil didn't like it. How  _dare_ Roman be angry? Virgil wasn't the one who treated him like he was a joke. This wasn't fair.

**_8:41 PM_ **

_**Roman Noodles:** God, you don't have to be such a prick about it. I'm sorry for being interested in you jesus _

The Knight almost laughed out loud. 

_**8:42 PM** _

_**Virge of freaking out:** w h a t??_

_**Virge of freaking out:** you get close to me, pretend to be my friend, play with my feelings, pretend you fucking like me and confess to mess with me, and I cant tell you off for that??? I'm sorry but what the f u c k_

Virgil studied Roman's face for a reaction. The actors eyes widened in shock at the response before quickly typing one himself.

_**8:43 PM** _

_**Roman Noodles:** I think you misunderstand!!_

Virgil glared at his phone screen.

_**Virge of freaking out:**  Misunderstand? God, how hard is it for you to own up to being an asshole?? Oh my god, you're fucking insane_

_**Roman Noodles:** That's not what I meant!_

Virgil pocketed his phone angrily, grabbed a glass of water water and purposefully dropped some on himself. "Oh, no," he said robotically, expression completely deadpan as he made direct eye contact with his theater partner. "I spilled water on myself. I'm going to my room to change."

Logan arched an eyebrow while Patton laughed nervously and questioningly. The Prince fathers stared at him, but at the moment he didn't care. Virgil looked to Logan for permission. Logan shrugged. "Hurry back soon, Virgil."

Virgil nodded and tried his best to keep himself from stomping out of the room, Roman's eyes drilling holes into the back of his head as the emo did. Just as soon as he made it out of the dining room, Virgil dashed upstairs, making his way up the two flights of stairs as fast as his skinny jeans allowed him.

He made his way into his largest room, a carpeted space larger than most people's apartments with large bookshelves, a huge in-room bathroom, and a king sized bed. The room was completed by a concrete balcony, supported by pillars that extend to ground floor.

Virgil made no effort to get himself onto dry clothes, not even pausing to remove the wet dress shirt, instead dashing across the room and plopping face-first into the plush blankets covering the king sized bed, shoving his face into a pillow inside a Brendon Urie pillowcase and screaming into the pillow mercilessly, much like a schoolgirl, or a particularly angry hyena. 

The emo silently thanked the sound-proof walls as he screamed his lungs out into the Brendon Urie pillow, feet kicking the bed as he did so. He screeched until his throat started to tire and his voice began to falter from the long period without breathing.

Virgil's body went limp as he finished the screeching, the only sign he was actually still alive being the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The silence was defeaning. 

And then it was broken. 

Heartwrenching sobs escaped the boy's mouth, muffled by the pillow his face was still pressed hard against. They started off as angry sobs, fat tears escaping his brown eyes only to be absorbed into the pillow. Only a few minutes later, though, and the frustration tears turned into sad, ugly tears.

Virgil flipped himself around, now facing the ceiling, eyes still spilling out tears and blurring his vision. Virgil wiped his eyes with the pillow and held the pillow tightly to his chest as he sat up, breathing heavily and sobbing.

Feeling suffocated in the room, Virgil stood, clutching the pillow like it was his last line of defense against anything bad. He dragged his feet along the dark carpeting to the balcony door, sliding the glass door fully open. 

Ignoring the biting cold, Virgil walked out to the balcony, sniffling quietly. The sound of the crickets melodically chirping to themselves and the cold breeze that ruffled his hair calmed Virgil until he was only hiccuping into his pillow.

 _Wow,_ the voice in his mind piped up.  _I'm crying over a crush. This is pathetic._

Virgil silently chuckled to himself. It really  _was_ pathetic. "Oh my god...." He laughed, one hand running through ebony hair while the other tightly gripped the poor pillow.

Virgil sighed. "It was all so _perfect_ ," he sniffled, making an effort to keep his tears at bay. "I— I was gaining friends.... I was friends with  _Roman fucking Prince_!" He laughed bitterly as his gaze fell on the Brendon Urie pillow, Brendon's face gazing back at him with passive eyes. He hugged the pillow tighter.

"Yeah...." Virgil answered the pillow. "Being friends with  _the_ fucking Roman Prince? I should have known something was up.... He just seemed, I don't know, so genuine and friendly and, believe it or not, he held my  _hand._ "

Virgil snorted before falling into a frown. "But... well, I was just too gullible, I guess. I should have known it was all a joke. I should have just done the project without distractions, I shouldn't have—" The young Knight's voice cracked "—I should have stayed away."

Virgil took a deep breath, resting the pillow on the rail and rested his head on the pillow, chin on Brendon's fabulous pillow face. Exhaling and then inhaling, Virgil spoke. 

"Why'd you do it?" He asked nobody in particular, but he damn well knew who he was actually asking. "Roman... why'd you do it? Why do you have to be the way that you are?"

The teen sighed longingly. "You were wonderful," he whispered. " _God_ , you were wonderful. You _are_ wonderful. You're great and beautiful, and the reason I can't sleep most nights, actually. You're just... so pretty." He let out a breath. "You're flawless and every time I look at you, it's like the first time. And holy _fuck_ it's been tearing me apart. It _still_ is. And for a split second there, I actually thought you felt the same way.... But I guess you didn't." Virgil wiped his eyes with the back of his hand roughly before continuing.

"I could have lived with _that_ , but then you had to _mess_ with me. You had to lead me on and— ugh, fuck, Ro. You and your shit-eating grin, you little bitch." Virgil laughed, wiping new tears. "I'm totally not cussing at you because I absolutely love you, Prince. Well, point is... god, I'm head over heels for you. And... I know it was just some stupid fucking prank, but Jesus, if you actually meant it when you said you loved me too... I'd hop the shit out of here and literally pledge my life for you, you dramatic asshole. God, I hate you, but... if all I had to say was 'I love you' to get you to be mine... then I'm halfway there."

Virgil closed his eyes, resting his face on the pillow once more, burying his head on the soft texture, escaping from the outside world by shoving his head on the object. A sudden yell interrupted his tranquility.

_"I TRUST YOU!"_

Virgil snapped up, shocked from the response. He looked below him, and lo and behold, Roman Prince stood, hands gestured wide. "I trust you!" The dipshit repeated, grinning wildly. "Tell me you love me again and I'll die for you, Virgil Knight!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy with how this chapter came out!! And I'm so thankful for the support you guys show I love you all so much hhgg
> 
> Anyway, I'm sorry the chapter took a few days late and how I replied to your comments later than usual ahhh. I've just been soobusy with school lately 
> 
> End of the semester tests are coming up, projects and essays are due for art class, English class, social science, and uugghh. My minds a literal battlefield right now and I still have to wake up early for GSA and ahhhhhh I'm so tiredddd 
> 
> I'll try to respond to comments earlier because I really do love the support and the funny comments you all send it makes my days you're all wonderful!
> 
> Thanks for reading, I'll work on the next chapter soon!!  
> -alex
> 
> (Ps... you guys are great ily)


	16. The Balcony Scene

This was it. This was the balcony scene. Virgil's mind hadn't figured out the connection yet, but it was. It was the balcony scene. 

"Jesus McFuck!" Virgil cursed at the sight. "How the shit did you know where my rooms were, Roman?!"

Roman's grin stayed put at his face, triumphant and filled with newfound joy. The dork winked at Virgil, eyes twinkling with a charming twinkle. "Love showed me the way, Julius!"

Virgil glared. "Oh, hardy har har." Virgil rolled his eyes. "No, seriously, this is a fucking security breach! How'd you avoid tripping the alarms? Oh, and speaking of security, we have guards! They'll literally shoot you!"

Roman rolled his own eyes, but the amusement of the situation was clear on his dopey smile. "I told you, my dear! Love showed me the way!"

Three stories above main floor, Virgil's glare intensified. "Being a charmer doesn't suddenly make what you did okay."

For a small moment, Roman's smile faltered to a small frown, illuminated by the moon glowing silver. The very same moon Shakespeare once looked at, and the very same scene Shakespeare once wrote. The same story in the beat up script in Virgil's backpack and Roman's shelf. The same books on the Knight library and the Prince study.

It was silence and tense calm. An intake of cold night air interrupted the quiet. "Oh, Virgil..." Roman sighed. "Why would you think I was lying?"

Virgil averted his gaze, somewhat guilty. He took a sharp breath, splitting the eerily quiet night air. "Nothing," he answered abruptly, forcefully. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have let myself think for a moment you'd be friends with me, I should have—"

"Sweetheart, I'm going to interrupt your pretty little mouth right there." Roman flashed him a comforting smile, half reassuring and half understanding, but all of him seemed to ache in anticipation. "Look, in the entire time we've hung out, I've never once faked any feeling for you."

" _But I don't know that!_ " The Knight cried, his words echoing in the silence of the air. His hands gesturing the pillow around as he waved them around awkwardly. "How do I know this isn't some cheap stunt you and your friends will laugh about next week? How do I know anything you say is true?"

Roman fixed him with a stare that made the emo freeze. "Virgil." His words held the firmness of ice with the intensity of fire, fogging up the air almost magically. "Trust me."

A burst of mixing emotions bubbled inside Virgil. A part of his body ached for nothing more than to yeet himself off the balcony for the sweet release of death, but a stronger part of himself wanted to yeet him into Roman's arms. Some part of him really just wanted to tell the balcony to fuck off. 

But Virgil did none of those things, instead letting his gaze drop to his feet. "It's late, Roman," he sighed, trying his hardest to keep his voice from cracking. "Go back to dinner before the guards find you."

He didn't have to see Roman's expression to feel the sensation of his chest shattering inside of him. It was silent for a while, and it couldn't have been more than a minute of eerie quiet and cricket calls, but Virgil felt as if it stretched forever. 

"No," came the voice from below Virgil's balcony. 

Virgil arched an eyebrow, shocked from the response. "Roman, get back inside."

"No," the Prince repeated, stomping his foot down on the ground to emphasize his decision. "I'm not leaving. If you're so worried about the guards finding me, then give me a reason to leave."

"They have stunguns, you dumbass."

"Let them shoot me! I have literally just heard you tell me I was great, and I'm telling you that you are too. Until you start believing that, let security shoot me until I die." Roman glared up at him defiantly.

Virgil, despite himself, had to roll his eyes at the dramatic antics of the basically royalty boy. "They aren't going to kill anybody," Virgil reassured.

Roman mimicked his eyeroll. "They might as well if you're going to think I don't actually love you, Knight. That stupid chemical in my brain is magical, and it's what led me here! That chemical is called 'love' and that shitty chemical is what made me look at you in the first day of freshman year and think, _Holy shit, he's cute_! Love told me what to do, and what to say, and how to do things! It's what makes me want to cross any sea and run into every storm for YOU! Because, you clueless moron, I'm literally in _fucking_ love with you!"

The need to yeet himself into Roman's arms intensfied, but Doubt(tm) doubled just as it did. Virgil shoved his face on the Brendon Urie pillow forcefully, biting his lip to keep from screaming. After an unbearable moment, Virgil lifted his face from his emotional support Brendon Urie pillow.

"...You love me?" The shorter boy three floors up blinked so many times in a row, he'd begun to wonder if Roman thought he had an eye condition.

"Did you literally not just listen to that entire speech right there—" Ro sarcastically rolled his eyes, a bright grin on his considerably pink face. 

Virgil groaned on his pillow, shutting his eyes tight. "Ugh, okay, look.... I don't know if you're lying, but please tell me you aren't. If you're going to promise something like that, be honest. Let your promise be honest." He inhaled sharply. "You've heard me say too many things tonight, Ro. You might even think I'm crazy because of it, but I just. I like you too much, I guess. Sorry."

Virgil felt eyes dig into his illuminated face. Roman's voice surrounded his ears. "Virgil, I swear—"

"Don't swear," Virgil interrupted, almost pleadingly. "No theatrics. No dramatic remarks or wild hand gestures or too pretty words. Don't swear by anything, just promise."

Roman offered Virgil a soft smile. "I promise."

Virgil let himself let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, chuckling quietly to himself at the situation he'd found himself in. Virgil let himself smile, ignoring the puffiness of his eyes from his crying only a few moments ago.

"Hey." Roman's voice sent shivers up Virgil's spine. Virgil was almost convinced he was going to die. "Is that a Brendon Urie pillow?"

The boy in the wet dresshirt laughed, the joyful noise capturing his confusion and ecstaticness and pure freedom. He felt himself shake from the laugh, his body vibrating from excitement. 

Acting on impulse, Virgil threw the pillow at the boy below, who caught it with a skilled hand, before dashing out of the room, down the two  flights of stairs, and down into the ground floor. Virgil ran through the dining rooms, and out of the house, straight into the backyard.

"Virgil?" The young highschooler heard Thomas call after him as he passed the dining room.

"Your son's an idiot!" Virgil called back, smiling from ear to ear as he did so.

The blur of darkness dashed to the area below his balcony, and lo and behold, there Roman stood.

And _god_ , he looked perfect. 

Hazelnut eyes and hazelnut hair glowed almost gold from the illumation of the moon, just as his tanned complexion glowed from the same light source. 

 _Roman is beauty_ , Virgil thought breathlessly as he slowed to a walk, slow steps walking up to the actor with his life planned out ahead of him, filled with dreams and stardust.

 _Roman is grace,_ Virgil thought as his heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst out of his very body, standing a mere arms length from the boy of beauty.

 _And I really wanna fucking kiss him on the face,_ Virgil thought as he did so, leaning in and meeting Roman's soft lips with his own, the taller actor resting a hand to place on Virgil's pale cheek. His kiss was fire, and his touch was sparks.

And in that moment, time stopped. 

Time stopped and it started. Time ran across the two boys as if to pay tribute to their story, or to tip a hat at the two star-crossed lovers. Two simple, drastically different highschoolers who fell in love just as the pillow fell from the balcony.

Around them, years played back and forth, and metaphorical butterflies flew rampant while metaphorical fireworks exploded in the night sky. Their lives played out in a simple kiss, showcasing two men who have long since graduated from highschool, living their lives happily and married with an abundance of love to give each other.

The two men, one an actor and the other a chef, would have served each other breakfast just as they served each other with loyalty and respect. They'd both flash smiles and sneak kisses as they snuggled up to each other on the loveseat of their home, their own fathers occupying the couch as their friends occupied the blanket-covered floor.

The chef's analytical mother-figure father would have long since retired from the medical industry, and his spouse would have also passed on from cooking and serving anyone but his family wondefully prepared food. The actor's fathers would have also retired from their jobs, all four parents equally proud of their children and their accomplishments.

It would have been years since the two pairs of parents gave one of the boys the shovel talk respectively. And yeah, they boys would have their fights and low grounds, but moments like this would happen.

Moments where the chimney fire would illuminate the room a warm orange while the very same moon from all those years ago shone through the window and spilled silver into to hardwood floor. 

And above the chimney, hanging just above the ornate mantle would be a plaque. In beautiful calligraphy, words would be engraved, summarizing their wonderful relationship in three rows of words...

 

As the kiss ended and time turned back to the present where two boys stood in the cold night, both boys sighed, matching smiles on their lit up faces. Maybe this was a balcony scene. Maybe the bad luck of Macbeth would continue to haunt them, but for now, the moment would be savored, just like every balcony scene would be, and just as every good instance should be.

After all, the plaque which would hang above their mantle would remind them of this balcony scene perfectly—

_Because never was there a tale of such woe_

_Than that of Julius Knight_

_And his Prince Romeo_

 

_**FIN** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A H H H H H 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR CONTINUOUS SUPPORT OF THIS FIC, I AM SO GLAD YOU ALL TOOK THE TIME TO MAKE IT THIS FAR!!
> 
> I'm super proud of this entire fic, and I can't thank you all enough for sticking with me! This was such a fun project and I loved each and every response you all commented!! 
> 
> Hahaha and I hope I didn't fuck the ending up
> 
> I could not have done this without you guys, and I'm so happy the fic came out the way it did. 
> 
> I still can't believe we made it this far, and... well, thanks for being here for this story and for me!
> 
> I hope we cross paths again sometime, and until then... I'll see ya when I see ya!
> 
> -alex

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't forget to review the story. It really helps my self esteem, and it also helps me improve too I guess. I'm always a slut for that constructive criticism mmhhmm. 10/10 would compliment again yum 
> 
> I also have a Tumblr (https://skittlesun.tumblr.com) which you should follow because I crave that attention and more followers gives me the feeling of validation k thanks
> 
> If you have a picture of your pet snake (or pet in general) or a really weird picture, please message me on my Tumblr because I'm always down for pet pictures and weird af photos


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